$ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS .£ 

$|N Mm" J|« : ■■# 

| ^K.....8,*5 ♦ 

* 

J UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. } 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS; 



OB 



INFANTS DIE TO LIVE 



WITH AN HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OP 



THE DOCTRINE OF INFANT SALVATION 



ALSO, 



VERY FULL SELECTIONS FROM VARIOUS AUTHORS, 



IN 



PROSE AND POETRY. 



BY THE REV. THOKAS SMYTH, D.D. 



The dead, 
The only beautiful, who change no more ; 
The only blest ; the dwellers on the shore 
Of Spring fulfilled. The dead !— whom call we so? 
They that breathe purer air, that feel, that know, 
Things wrapt from us. 

HKMANS. 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT CARTER, 58 CANAL STREET, 
AND PITTSBURG, 56 MARKET STREET. 







i 



3> 



sjtr* 



qQ 



•SS 5 " 



■i » ■ < — 



The Lib** *ry 

of Congress 



WASHINGTON 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846, 

BY ROBERT CARTER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States 
for the Southern District of New York. 



^4 







. , 



4 • 



I 



\ 



/ 



THIS VOLUME 

IS DEDICATED TO MY DEAR AUNT, 

MRS. M. M. MAGEE, 

OF DUBLIN, IRELAND, . 

AS A TRIBUTE OF GRATEFUL AFFECTION ; 

AND ALSO AS AN EXPRESSION OF HIGH ADMIRATION 

FOR THAT CHRISTIAN HOPE AND PATIENCE 

WHICH> BY DIVINE GRACE, SHE HAS SO TRIUMPHANTLY 

DISPLAYED UNDER MANIFOLD TRIALS, 

AND WHICH STILL ENABLE HER TO GO ON HER WAY REJOICING, 

IN THE GLORIOUS ANTICIPATION OF 

A HAPPY REUNION IN THAT BLESSED WORLD 

WHERE DEATH SHALL BE SWALLOWED UP 

IN EVERLASTING LIFE, 

AND ITS CURSE, AND ITS SORROW BE FOR EVER DONE AWAY. 



EPITAPH ON INFANTS 



BOLD INFIDELITY ! TURN PALE AND DIE ; 
BENEATH THIS STONE, FOUR INFANTS' ASHES LIE; 
SAY, ARE THEY LOST OR SAVED 1 

if death's by sin, they sinn'd because they're HERE ; 



REASON, AH ! HOW DEPRAVED ! 
REVERE THE SACRED PAGE, THE KNOTS UNTIED; 
THEY DIED, FOR ADAM SINN'D ! — THEY LIVE FOR JESUS DIED. 

Rev. R. Robinson. 



PREFACE 



Oh, what is life ? 'Tis like the bow- 
That glistens in the sky ; 

We love to see its colours glow- 
But while we look they die. 

Life fails as soon ; to-day 'tis here, 
To -morrow it may disappear. 



The following work is a very needful one, and will, I hope, prove ac- 
ceptable and comforting. It is the first, and only American work, 
exclusively devoted to the consideration of the subject of infant salva- 
tion, and the comfort of bereaved parents. I have endeavoured to make 
it as comprehensive, and, at the same time, as much adapted to popular 
use, as possible. Besides, therefore, the argument contained in the first 
chapters, I have added a very full selection from various authors, both 
in prose and poetry ; so that the time, the taste, the circumstances, and 
the feelings of all classes of readers may be accommodated. The work 
thus contains a treasury of all the literary gems pertaining to this sub- 
ject which have been dug up by the force of sanctified genius out of the 
minds of intellect, or secured from the fathomless depths of the ocean 
of thought. This collection is rich in such precious gems, gathered 
from all lands ; but will be found especially brilliant in the sparkling lustre 
of its American productions. Of such a cabinet we may well be proud, 
and with such comforters we may well be solaced in every hour of grief. 

The collection in poetry, while it is select, is complete, as far as the 
author could find resources or references ; and as far as merit and pro- 
per Christian sentiment warranted their insertion ; and is the result of 
many years inquiry and research. And it will serve, I think, to prove 
that religion is the best inspirer of the muse, and brings out from the 
lyre of poesy its softest, sweetest notes. Indeed, in many cases, it has 
made poets where the fire of genius had slumbered under the ashes of a 
timid modesty, or the oppressive weight of worldly avocations. 

I have been particular in exhibiting the connexion between the doc- 
trine of infant salvation and the doctrines of Calvinism, as taught in 
the XXXIX articles of the Episcopal Church — (as these are interpreted 
by all its Evangelical members) — and in the Shorter Catechism, and 
other doctrinal standards of the Westminster Assembly, as these are 
held or approved of by the Presbyterian, Congregationalist, Baptist, and 
Reformed Dutch churches. In doing so, however, my object has not 
been to sectarianize the work, or represent the charitable views it in- 
culcates as peculiar to these bodies, but to show to the world, and to our 



VI PREFACE. 

Christian brethren of other denominations, that in holding Calvinistic 
doctrines, we do not hold their views of what these doctrines teach, nor 
those awful consequences which, in their conception of them, these doc- 
trines imply. I hope, therefore, that this exhibition of the real nature 
and tendency of Calvinism will serve to put down misrepresentations ; 
to remove prejudices ; and to draw nearer together, in the bonds of 
charity and good- will, all who love the Lord Jesus Christ — " both 
theirs and ours" — in sincerity and truth, and who trust in the word of 
God only, in the grace of Christ only, and in the sanctifying influences 
of the Holy Ghost only. The Trinity of the one immutable Godhead, 
as the source of salvation, of grace, and of power — the author, finisher, 
and imparter of eternal life — this is the grand platform on which all true 
Christians can meet, sympathize, hope, rejoice, and triumph. May we 
all " stand fast" in this faith, and " keep the unity of the Spirit in the 
bonds of" a more open, more visible, and more consolidating " peace." 

Not with mistrusting heart, or anxious brow, 

My little book, I send thee forth again — 

So thou the suffrage of the good obtain, 
I seek not what the worldling can bestow, 
Of perishable praise — enough to know 

That at the lonely couch of grief or pain, 

Thy simple page one passing smile may gain, 
Or kindle in the breast devotion's glow. 
Yet, shouldst thou find a place in blissful bower, 

'Midst happy hearts, unthinking of their doom, 
In the fond trust of that delusive hour, 

O whisper to them of the coming gloom , 
And tell them of the faith whose mighty power 
Can light the dreary precincts of the tomb. 

THE AUTHOR, 

Charleston, Dec. 1845. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Address to a Bereaved Parent 9 

CHAPTER II. 

An Historical Account of the Doctrine of Infant Salvation, wherein 
it is shown that it was first advocated and received by Calvinists, 
and based upon Calvinistic Doctrines, including quotations from, 
or references to, the following Calvinistic writers, — Zuinglius, Cal- 
vin, Tyndale, (and other reformers or successors of) Perkins, Cot- 
ton Mather, Harris, Toplady, Dr. Williams, Scott, Newton, Dr. 
Gill, Pictet, Whitefield, Watts, Addington, Robert Hall, Howe, Dr. 
Lawson, the Lime St. Lectures, the National Covenant, the Con- 
fession of Faith, Dr. Jarkin, Dr. Cumming, Dr. Russell, &c. . 13 

CHAPTER III. 

The necessity for discussing the Doctrine of the Salvation of Infants 47 

CHAPTER IV. 

Children are taken away in Infancy in Mercy to them 59 

CHAPTER V. 
Children are taken away in Infancy for the Benefit of the Living , 99 

CHAPTER VI. 

Selections in Prose confirmatory and illustrative of the preceding 
Views from Charlotte Elizabeth, Rev. H. Mowes, Evangelical 
Magazine, Dr. Watts, Dr. Doddridge, Dr. Mason, Robert Hall, 
Erskine, Flavel, Dr, Chalmers, Dr. Henry, Ramanoojooloo, &c. . 132 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

Shorter Selections in Prose, adapted to be read at short intervals, 
from Oliver Hey wood, Scott, Fenelon, and many Authors, with 
some very interesting and striking anecdotes illustrative of the tri- 
umph of Christian Faith under such bereavements . . .165 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Selections in Poetry 205 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 

ADDRESS TO A BEREAVED PARENT. 



Bid gentle patience smile on pain 
Till dying hope revive again ; 
Hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye, 
And faith points upward to the sky. 

Steele. 



My Dear Reader, 

This work is addressed to you as a bereaved 
Parent. God has given you a child whom you dearly 
loved, and God has taken that child away. He has 
" strickened the desire of your eyes," and iC wounded 
you sore." Like Rachel you weep for your departed 
child, and " refuse to be comforted because it is not." 

Your grief, my dear friend, is natural, for your afflic- 
tion is great. Your heart is left lonely and desolate. 
Its strings are broken. That joy which had swallowed 
up all remembrance of the hours of solicitude and pain, 
^ now turned into melancholy sadness. That current 
of affection and gladness which had flowed out upon 
the object of your regard is turned back upon the soul 
— its channels arc dried up, and its fountain gone. 
The grief of a bereaved parent can only be known by 
those who have endured it. Of this it may be truly 
said, " the heart knoweth its own bitterness and a 
stranger intermeddleth not with it." There are sus- 
ceptibilities in man which are only developed by an 



10 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

entrance upon the relation of parent, The individual 
who has never become a Father or a Mother, has 
never felt the most powerful of human emotions. He 
is a stranger to that joy which seems to fill the heart 
to overflowing ; and to that outgoing of the soul which 
identifies the parent with his child, absorbs all selfish 
regards, and inspires a willingness to endure all things 
for the sake of his beloved offspring. 

Who then can truly sympathize with parents in 
their joys or sorrows, but he who has been himself a 
parent? An old writer has quaintly remarked, — -as il- 
lustrative of the adaptation of Christ, by the endurance 
of human misery, for his present office of Mediator be- 
tween God and man, — that were his limb broken he 
should desire to have it set by a physician who had 
himself experienced a similar calamity. Sure it is 
that the wounded heart of a bereaved parent can only 
be bound up by one whose own heart has been in like 
manner torn, and who can sincerely weep with him 
who weeps over the grave of his buried offspring. 

Young mother ! what can feeble friendship say, 
To soothe the anguish of this mournful day 1 
They, they alone, whose hearts like thine have bled, 
Know how the living sorrow for the dead ; 
Each tutored voice, that seeks such grief to cheer. 
Strikes cold upon the weeping parent's ear ; 
I Ve felt it all, — alas ! too well I know 
How vain all earthly power to hush thy woe ! 
God cheer thee, childless mother 1 't is not given 
For man to ward the blow that falls from heaven. 

I 've felt it all— as thou art feeling now ; 
Like thee, with stricken heart and aching brow, 
I 've sat and watched by dying beauty's bed, 
And burning tears of hopeless anguish shed ; 
I 've gazed upon the sweet, but pallid face, 
And vainly tried some comfort there to trace ; 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 11 

I Ve listened to the short and struggling breath ; 
I 've seen the cherub eye grow dim in death ; 
Like thee, I J ve veiled my head in speechless gloom, 
And laid my first-born in the silent tomb. 

It is on this account I would venture to intrude my 
thoughts upon your present solitude, and whisper 
words of consolation to that ear which can never more 
hear the infant voice now silent in death. Like you, 
my friend, I have been called to witness the unexpect- 
ed departure of my children. Two of them I commit- 
ted to the same grave, where they sleep the sleep of 
death. They were growing up together like tw T o 
young flowers, which had intertwined their tendrils, 
and mingled their sweet fragrance, but which were 
suddenly withered by the same rude blast. Like 
them, these children were lovely in their lives, and in 
death they were not divided. The same storm over- 
whelmed them both. They lie, as it were, arm in arm, 
and side by side, in the same deep and narrow bed of 
earth, until they awake in the morning of the resur- 
rection. Nor do they lie alone, their narrow bed has 
been uncovered to receive another sleeper, the victim 
of a similar malady, whose sun of brightest promise 
went down while my heart was still rejoicing in the 
beauty of its day-spring. 

It was when tossed upon that sea of trouble in 
which these sudden visitations involved me, I w^as led 
to the full investigation of the question of the salvation 
of infants. That examination more than confirmed 
my hopes. It strengthened them into a comforta- 
ble ASSURANCE THAT IN THE DEATH OF INFANTS, 
IT IS WELL WITH THEM, AND WELL WITH THEIR 

parents — that God's purposes are merciful to both — 
and that while he glorifies himself in the exaltation of 
the children to heaven, he would also secure by such 



12 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

afflictions the sanctification and the salvation of their 
parents. 

You will, therefore, allow me to present to your 
mind, in substance, some of those considerations by 
which I have been myself comforted of God, and 
through which you may also, by His blessing, obtain 
" beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the 
garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness," and en- 
able you to believe that the tide of death, whose rece- 
ding waves withdrew the desire of your eyes for ever 
from your sight, " like waifs flung for a season upon 
the shores of this world," has only borne them back 
again upon " the eternal sea which washes the throne 
of God." 

Of one thing be very sure : " God does nothing with- 
out a reason. That reason may have respect to you — 
it may have respect to your child, and not unlikely to 
both. He sees effects in their causes. Your case may 
have been this : you may have been in danger of lov- 
ing the world too much, and he removed the cause in 
time. Its case may have been this : it may have been 
in danger from the growth of a corrupt nature, and he 
took it in the bud of being that it might grow without 
imperfection, ' for of such is the kingdom of heaven.' 
Think of your child then not as dead but as living, 
not as a flower that is withered, but as one that is 
transplanted, and, touched by a divine hand, is bloom- 
ing in richer colours and sweeter shades than those of 
earth, though to your eyes these last may have been 
beautiful, more beautiful than you will hope to see 
again. 

u c With patient mind thy course of duty run, 
God nothing does, nor suffers to be done, 
But thou wouldst do thyself, if thou couldst see 
The end of all he does as well as he.' v 



CHAPTER II 



HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE DOCTRINE OF INFANT SALVATION, 
WHEREIN IT IS SHOWN THAT IT WAS FIRST ADVOCATED AND 
RECEIVED BY CALVINISTS, AND BASED UPON CALVINISTIC DOC- 
TRINES. 



I stood beside a death-bed scene, a mother bent and wept, 

But deep within her breaking heart, a deathless faith she kept : 

She gazed upon her little one, so beautiful and still, 

And humbly tried to yield him up unto her Maker's will : 

She bent and kissed his pallid brow, she joined her hands in prayer, 

And then I knew the Christian's hope had surely entered there. 



When I was led to the investigation of this subject, 
nothing surprised me more than the difficulty with 
which I could then* find any thing adapted to my in- 
quiries. With very ample resources, I could discover 
but little in the form of direct discussion, on this most 
interesting subject. It is certainly strange, that while 
works of consolation and advice had been prepared for 
almost every other class of mourners in Zion, bereaved 
parents were left to comfort themselves by those gen- 
eral considerations only, which leave their peculiar sor- 
rows unalleviated. 

With very diligent search I have procured an Essay 
on this subject by the Rev. Daniel Gillard, pub- 
lished in London in 1787 ; a similar Essay, entitled 
Grounds of Hope for the Salvation of all dying in In- 
fancy, by the Rev. "William Harris, LL.D., pub- 
lished in London in 1821 ; An Essay on the Salvation 

* Since then many things in prose and poetry have been written. 

2 



14 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

of all dying in Infancy, by the Rev. David Russell 
of. Dundee, published in Edinburgh in 1823 ;* a little 
volume addressed to Bereaved Parents, by John 
Thornton, published in London in 1831 ; a Sermon, 
by the late Dr. Henry ; and two others, on the death 
of their children, by Dr. Doddridge, and Dr. Cotton 
Mather. Besides these, I found only some scattered 
hints in various volumes.t 

From an examination of all these, I matured that 
opinion I have embodied in the following chapters, 
the substance of which was delivered in discourses to 
my people. Their earnest wishes induced me to pre- 
pare them for the press. Some work of the kind is 
imperatively demanded. Almost all parents are called 
to endure the loss of children, and to feel the need of 
such a comforter. Within a few months, I have com- 
mitted to the grave thirteen children, from within the 
bounds of my official ministration. Now there is no 
work to which such parents can have access, for of all 
those enumerated above, I may say, they are printed 
in England ; they are rare, and therefore inaccessible. 
Besides, even when parents may have a general per- 
suasion of the safety of departed infants, yet, when 
such a belief is not founded on a firm and clearly es- 
tablished conviction of its truth, it will give way be- 
fore the flood of sorrow, and fail to support in the hour 
of need. Just as men sport with death till called 
themselves to grapple with its terrors, so may men 
think lightly of the trial of a bereaved parent, until 
they stand by the bedside of their own dying child. 

* This is a most full and satisfactory work, and fully answers every 
objection. 

t The only other treatise on this subject then known to the author, 
besides one by Mosheim, a Lutheran, is by Dr. Williams. I believe 
the same who advocated the cause of Modern Calvinism, and answer- 
ed Whitby. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 15 

But then will they earnestly look for any light which 
may irradiate their darkness, calm their fears, and as- 
suage their grief. A writer in an English magazine, 
speaking of the death of very young children, thus 
beautifully remarks : — " The soul of the cherub child, 
that dies on its mother's breast, wings its way to heav- 
en, unconscious of the joys it might share here, as well 
as of the many, many miseries of which it might be 
partaker. This can hardly be called death. It is but 
the calm, soft ebbing of the gentle tide of life, to flow 
no more in the troubled ocean of existence : it is but 
the removal of a fair creature — ( too pure for earthly 
stay' — to make one of that bright band of cherubim 
which encompasses in glory and in joy the throne of 
the living God." 

But glorious as the change may be to the little one, 

it is hard for the mother to part thus early with her 

fair-haired innocent — to break off all the delightful ties 

of prattling tenderness that had bound her even in a 

' few months, to that gentle form forever — 

'Tis hard to lay her darling 

Deep in the cold, damp earth — 
His empty crib to see, 
His silent nursery, 

Once gladsome with his mirth, 

To meet again in slumber 

His small mouth's rosy kiss ; 
Then, wakened with a start 
By her own throbbing heart, 

His twining arms to miss ! 

To feel (half conscious why) 

A dull, heart-sinking weight, 
Till mem'ry on her soul 
Flashes the painful whole, 

That she is desolate ! 



16 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

And then to He and weep, 

And think the live-long night 
(Feeding her own distress 
With accurate greediness) 

Of every past delight ; — 

Of all his winning ways, 

His pretty playful smiles, 
His joy, his ecstacy, 
His tricks, his mimicry, 

And all his little wiles ! 

Oh ! these are recollections 

Round mothers' hearts that cling — ■ 

That mingle with the tears 

And smiles of after years, 
With oft awakening ! 

That this little volume therefore may be rendered as 
satisfactory as possible, it will be proper to give some 
historical account of the views entertained at different 
periods of the church on the subject of the salvation 
of infants. This will show the necessity for its present 
and thorough investigation ; and at the same time ex- 
pose the groundlessness with which a belief in the fu- 
ture loss or damnation of infants has been charged 
upon Calvinists, and upon Presbyterians, as a doctrine 
peculiar to them, or involved in their system of belief. 

Among the Jews, the hope of salvation seems to 
have been confined to themselves, and to their children 
who had received circumcision. " They imagined that 
the law of Moses made the very infants of the Gentiles 
be treated as sinners and hateful to God, because they 
were uncircumcised, and descended from uncircumci- 
sed parents. They of course imagined that all their 
own children were saved, and that all those of the 
Gentiles perished. It is partly on this account that 
the apostle, after mentioning the universal reign of 



SOLACE FOR BEfcEAVED PARENTS. If 

death from Adam to Moses, distinctly adds, that it 
came upon infants, as well as upon adults, without dis- 
tinction of Jew and Gentile ; and then shows that in- 
fants, whether they descend from Gentiles or Jews, are 
treated as sinners, not by virtue of the law of Moses, 
but in consequence of the sin of Adam, the common 
father of the human race." 

A corresponding faith was early developed in the 
Christian Church. Erroneous views of baptism, as in 
itself communicative of regeneration, led to the belief 
of its absolute necessity in order to salvation. Of 
course, those who failed to enjoy the benefits of this or- 
dinance were believed to be excluded from all participa- 
tion in the benefits of that gospel, with which it was so 
essentially connected. And hence it was supposed that 
the children even of christian parents who were not 
baptized, as well as all others in the same unfortunate 
condition, were cast, with unbelievers, into hell for 
ever ; or, at least, excluded from the divine presence, 
and the blessedness of heaven. 

This opinion prevailed generally in the Church un- 
til after the Reformation. It was the opinion of Au- 
gustine, of Gregory, Ariminiensis, Driedd, Luther, Me- 
lanchthon, Tilmanus, Heshusius, " who have all fallen 
into the worst of St. Austin's opinion, and sentence 
poor infants to the flames of hell for original sin, if 
they die before baptism."* " The Catholic faith," 
says Augustine, " resting on divine authority, believes 
the first place to be the kingdom of heaven, whence 
the unbaptized are excluded ; and the second 
Hell, where every apostate and alien from the faith of 
Christ will experience eternal punishments. A third 
place we are wholly ignorant of, nor shall we find it in 

* See Jer. Taylor's Works, vol. 9. p. 129. 
9* 



18 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

the Scriptures."* The decree of the Council of Trent, 
by which it is determined that " whosoever shall affirm 
that baptism is indifferent, that is, not necessary to 
salvation, let him be accursed," is still binding on 
the Roman Catholic Church : for their catechism also 
teaches that children, "be their parents christians or 
infidels, unless regenerated by the grace of 

BAPTISM, ARE BORN TO ETERNAL MISERY AND EV- 
ERLASTING destruction."! " Nothing," says the 
Council of Trent, " can be apparently more necessary, 
than that the faithful should be taught, that the law 
of baptism was ordained by the Lord for all men ; so 
that unless they be regenerated by God, through the 
grace of baptism, they are begotten by their parents, 
be they believers, or unbelievers, to everlasting mise- 
ry and perdition."* " No other means of salvation" 
adds the Catechism, " is supplied to infants, except 
baptism be administered to themPh " There is a 
third place for infants," says Bellarmine, " who die 
without baptism. This Limbus Puerorum is for the 
eternal punishment of loss only :" that is, " the loss of 
the presence of God." II "Since, then," adds this de- 
fender of the Papacy, " infants are without reason, so 
that they cannot imitate the sins of their fathers, and 
are nevertheless punished with the most severe of all 
punishments, that is to say, death temporal and eter- 
nal ; it necessarily follows that they have some other 
sin, for which they are justly punished : and this is 
what we call original sin. It cannot, therefore, be 

* August. Hypostgnost. Contra Pelag. lib. V. torn. iii. Col. 1405. C, 
Basil, 1569. 

t See Cramp's Hist, of Council of Trent, p. 129, and the works 
quoted. 

X Concil. Trid. Sess. VII. can. v. p. 51. Roma?, 1564. 

§ Catechismus ad Parochos, pp. 189, 191. Lugduni, 1579. 

|| Bellarm. de Purgat 1. II. chap, vl torn. ii. p. 410. A. Colonise. 1628. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 19 

doubted that infants (for whom it is shown from the 
word of Christ and apostolical tradition that Baptism 
is necessary ',) have sin, which they bring with them 
from their mother's womb."* This belief passed down 
to the Reformed Churches, and was at first very gene- 
rally held. The Church of England placed the un- 
baptized on the same footing with the suicide and the 
excommunicated, and denied to them the office of bu- 
rial, t And this still continues to be the doctrine of the 
church, and of all high-church prelatists who agree on 
this subject with the Romanists. " Without baptism," 
say the Oxford Tracts, " none can enter the kingdom of 
heaven."* " And so momentous is this dogma in their 
judgment, that one leading object," says Mr. Bridges, 
himself an Episcopalian, "of their great movement 
confessedly was to bring it more fully before the 
church."§ The question of the future condition of 
infants became thus involved with that of baptism, 
and was not considered upon its own merits. Eccle- 
siastics, who were secluded from all personal interest 
in domestic life, were of course insensible to the happi- 
ness connected with the enjoyment of children, or to 



* Bellarm. de Amiss. Gratiae et Statu Feccati. lib. IV. c. 7. torn. iv. p. 
61. G. 62. B. 

t See Burns' Eccles. Law, vol. i. p. 266, and Wheatley on the Book 
of Prayer, p. 477. 

X Vol. i. p. 260. See also Dr. Pusey's work on Baptism, passim, 
Bethel on Baptismal Regeneration, pp. 7, 8, 9, &c. 

§ See his Sacramental Instruction, p. 46, 47, where he quotes a host 
of authorities, including Perceval, Keble, Dr. Pusey, Sewell, Bishop 
Mant, &c. It would even appear that some evangelical Episcopalians 
of our present day are unwilling to say anything about the future con- 
dition of unbaptized children who die in infancy. See the Church- 
man's Monthly Rev. May 1843, p. 372. This doctrine of the absolute 
necessity of baptism to salvation was established in the Western church 
by papal authority, and was retained in the English church after the 
reformation, until the year 1604, when it was declared to be necessary 
" where it may be had." See Hallow on the Order of Baptism, &c, 
and Ogelby on Lay Baptism, p. 159, 160, &c 



20 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

the distress consequent upon their loss. The fate of 
children awakened; therefore, but a relative interest, 
as it affected other truths considered of more impor- 
tance. 

The horror naturally associated with this fearful 
doctrine was nevertheless very early felt, and at differ- 
ent times manifested. Various theories were adopted 
to throw over it a veil of charity, and to render it 
more tolerable to the wounded spirit of mourning pa- 
rents. In the time of Augustine, Vincentius, Victor 
and some others believed that infants dying without 
baptism might, notwithstanding, be saved.* This 
opinion was favoured by some of the School Divines, 
in reference to cases where baptism could not be had, 
inasmuch as it was the will of the parents that it 
should be enjoyed.t Bernard, Biel, Cajetan, and some 
others, adopted this charitable supposition.! And so 
also did Peter Martyr, Wickliffe, the Hussites, and the 
Lollards, who adopted, preached, and suffered for, all 
those doctrines which are now denominated Calvinis- 
tic. But this opinion has been considered as involving 
unconquerable difficulties. Jeremy Taylor says, " What 
will be the condition of unbaptized infants, so dying, I do 
not profess to know or teach, because God hath kept it 
as a secret."§ Baxter, with all his charity, and perhaps 
too liberal views of Christian doctrine, could only go so 
far on this subject as to say, " I think that no man can 
prove that all unbaptized infants are damned or deni- 
ed heaven. Nay, I think I can prove a promise to 
the contrary." Beyond " penitent believers and their 
seed," he says, " what God may do for others unknown 

* See Jer. Taylor's Works, vol. ix. p. 90. 
t See list of in Hooker's Works, vol. ii. p. 219. 
% Jer. Taylor's Works, vol. ix. p. 91 and 93, 
§ Jeremy Taylor's Works, p. 92. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 21 

to us, we have nothing to do with, but his Covenant 
hath made no other promise that I can find."* Similar 
were the sentiments of Bishop Hopkins : u Not only in- 
fants baptized," says he, " but all infants of believing 
parents, though they should unavoidably die before 
baptism, are in the same safe and blessed condition." 
This, however, is the extent to which he could apply 
his hopes.t 

To this charitable view of the matter, which Calvin- 
ists, and Calvinistic Churches generally adopted, the 
Pelagians could not fully assent. i They excluded 
infants when unbaptized from the kingdom of heaven, 
but promised to them an eternal and a natural beati- 
tude. This opinion was embraced by Ambrosius Ca- 
tharinus, Albertus Pighius, and Hieronymus Savana- 
rola, Gregory Nazianzen, Athanasius, Ambrose, Pope 
Innocent III., and others. § Hence arose the present 
doctrine of the Romish Church, which teaches that 
there is a limbus patrum, or place on the borders of 
hell, for those who had believed in Christ before his 
advent ; and a limbus infantum, for children who die 
unbaptized. 

When the mists, however, which had gathered 
round the ordinance of baptism were gradually dis- 
persed, this subject was examined on more impartial 
grounds. The natural feelings of the heart were per- 
mitted to declare their interest in the decision of the 
question. The hope expressed by Wickliffe in refer- 
ence to unbaptized children was eagerly embraced by 
his followers, who were all Calvinists, and who all re- 



* See Works, vol. v. p. 326 and 323. 
t See Works, vol. ii. p. 429. 

X See the Articles of the Synod of Dort, with Scott's Notes. Works 
of Scott, vol. viii. p. 576. 

§ See Jer. Taylor, vol. ix. p. 90, 



22 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

garded baptism in its truly simple and scriptural char- 
acter. Zuinglius was perhaps the first who proclaim- 
ed hope for the salvation of all infants, whether 
christian or heathen, who died in their infancy, 
and before they became chargeable with the guilt of 
actual transgression. He maintained, that in conse- 
quence of the atonement of Christ offered for all, 
" original sin does not even damn the children of the 
heathen." For this conclusion concerning children 
generally, Zuinglius quotes Romans v. ; though he 
admits that we have but little light upon the subject. 
He rejects the idea that baptism washes away original 
sin and condemnation. The blessing, he says, is not 
tied to signs and symbols ; baptism recognizes and 
attests the privilege rather than confers it. " What 
scriptural authority," he asks, " is there for ascribing 
such an effect to baptism ?" " The words . of Mark 
xvi. 16," says he, u relate to those only to whom the 
gospel was sent. They that hear the gospel and be- 
lieve it were blessed ; they who hear it, and believe it 
not, are accursed. But this is no prejudice to election, 
for both they who come to Christ are drawn to him by 
the Father, which is election : and they who come to 
the Father are chosen by him ; but so that they may 
at length come to him by Christ. The (infant) chil- 
dren of Christians are the children of God by virtue of 
the covenant. Concerning the children of heathens, 
we decide nothing : though I confess that I incline to 
the sentiment which considers the death of Christ as 
available to the salvation of all who are free from ac- 
tual sin."* For this doctrine Bossuet charges Zuin- 
glius with being a Pelagian, and pronounces this a 



* See Epist. fo. 17, 18. Zuingl. Op. 1. 382, and Scott's Contin. of 
Milner, vol. iii. p. 143, 144, 146. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 23 

u strange decision/ 5 * This opinion of Zuinglius exci- 
ted considerable controversy.t Eckard says, " perhaps 
Zuinglius pronounced too liberally when he included 
the children of the heathen." The same doctrine was, 
however, maintained by Cornelius Wigger, and by 
John Iac-Schultens, who embraced in the decree of 
predestination to eternal life those who die in infancy, 
whether born of Gentile or Infidel parents. This was 
the declared sentiment of Arminius,+ Triglandius, 
Walders, Heidanus, Curcelleus, Maresius.§ Maresius 
says, " The question is, whether the decree of Election 
and Reprobation affects infants. There is not the 
smallest ground from Scripture to think it does. Let 
parents then be comforted for departed children. 
These words of Christ, (" of such is the Kingdom of 
Heaven,") why are they so general, but that they seem 
to include the children not only of believers but of un- 
believers also." II 

The Remonstrants believed that such infants as 
were not entitled to heaven by their relation to the 
covenanted mercies of God, would be consigned only 
to the punishment of loss, their bodies not being raised, 
and their souls not being annihilated, yet being eter- 
nally separated from the beatific vision of God.^ 

Many, however, regarded the decision of this question 
as presumptuous. They left the whole matter in the 
hands of God, determining nothing one way or ano- 
ther, but quieting themselves with the assurance, that 
as far as God's purpose of salvation extended it would 
be secured ; and that infants, as far as included in it, 
would be assuredly ransomed. Infants were, however, 

* See Hist. Var., vol. i. p. 66. 

t See an account of in De Moor's Comment, vol. ii. p. 104, &c. 

% See ditto. § See ditto. 

|| See ditto, p. 105. V See ditto, p. 104. 



24 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

universally regarded as involved in all the guilt of ori- 
ginal sin, and as requiring for their salvation the exer- 
cise of the same mercy, and the bestowment of the 
same grace, as adults. They were described by some 
as, " damnabilibus et forte quibus dum etiam dam- 
nandisP But even when infants were included by 
any in the decree of Reprobation, their punishment 
was believed to consist, not in the positive infliction 
of misery, but only in the deprivation of heavenly 
rewards.* 

Calvin clearly recognized the fact that all infants 
are involved in the guilt of Adam's sin, and therefore 
liable to the misery in which it has involved our race. 
But at the same time he encourages the belief that 
they are redeemed from these evils by Christ, are capa- 
ble of regeneration, and are, when taken away in in- 
fancy, " redeemed by the blood of the Lamb." He ar- 
gues against those who, like the Anabaptists, asserted 
that regeneration cannot take place in early infancy. 
For says he, " if they must be left among the children 
of Adam, they are left in death, for in Adam we can 
only die. On the contrary, Christ commands them to 
be brought to him. Why? because he is life. To 
give them life therefore he makes them partakers of 
himself, while these men, by driving them away from 
him, adjudged them to death."t He then goes on to 
prove, by incontestible arguments, That infants both 
have been, and can be, regenerated by God. And in his 
Commentary on the words of our Saviour, " Of such, 
&c.," without any limitation of his meaning, he une- 
quivocally declares, that " God adopts infants and 
washes them in the blood of his Son," and that " they 

* See Stapfer, vol. iv. p. 518. On the ground of their condemnation. 
Bee Buddeus Theol. Dogm. p. 591. 
t See Institutes, B. IV. ch. XVI. 



SOLACE FOE, BEREAVED PARENTS. 25 

are regarded by Christ as among his flock." " In this 
passage," he adds, " Christ is not speaking of the gen- 
eral guilt in which all the descendants of Adam are in- 
volved, but only threatening the despisers of the gos- 
pel who proudly and obstinately reject the grace that is 
offered them ; and this has nothing to do with infants. 
I likewise oppose a contrary argument : all those whom 
Christ blesses are exempted from the curse of Adam 
and the wrath of God ; and as it is known that infants 
were blessed by him, it follows that they are exempted 
from death."* 

Certain it is, that Calvinists were foremost in over- 
throwing the dogma that baptism was essentially con- 
nected with salvation, and in establishing the truth, 
that want of it does not militate against their future 
safety.t It is well known that the former opinion is 
still extensively held by those who are opposed to Cal- 
vinistic sentiments. On this subject Scott in answer to 
Bp. Tomline, remarks, " a few presumptuous, extrava- 
gant Calvinists have spoken shocking things of the 
damnation of infants : but to consign the innumerable 
multitudes of those all over the world, and in every 
age, who die before they commit actual sin, and die 
unbaptized, to eternal damnation, is far more shocking. 
Even such Calvinists may suppose some of these chil- 
dren to be elect and saved : but the sentiment that 
none dying when infants, except such as have been 
baptized are saved, excludes them all."t " The most 
unfeeling supra-lapsarian never ventured on so dire an 



* Institutes, book iv. chap. 16, sec. 31, vol. ii. p. 460. See also pp. 
461, 456, 436, 435. 

t See Cartwright's reply to Hooker on this subject, in Hanbury's 
Hooker, vol. ii. p. 221. See also, Bp. Hopkins' Works, vol. ii. p. 429 ; 
Davenant on Col., vol. ii. p. 448 ; Hey wood's Works, vol. iv. p. 447 ; 
Pictet's Theology, p. 399. 

\ See Works, vol. vii. p. 502. 

3 



26 JS0LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

opinion as to consign all the unbaptized infants, in 
every age and nation, to eternal misery."* This is 
the language of a Calvinist addressed to that large 
body of his own church who oppose Calvinism, and 
take occasion to impeach its charity. Some Calvinists, 
it is true, have in former times avoided the decision of 
this question, leaving dying infants in the hands of a 
merciful God. But, " why," asks the same writer, 
" might not these Calvinists have as favourable a hope 
of all infants dying before actual sin as Anti-Calvinists 
can have?"t What doctrine of the most rigid Calvinism 
is there, with which such a hope can possibly militate ? 
Is it the doctrine of God's sovereignty, whereby is at- 
tributed to him all power and right of dominion over 
his creatures, to dispose of them, and to extend or 
withhold favour, as seemeth to him good — but. why 
may it not please God, in the exercise of this sover- 
eignty, to extend his favour to all dying infants? Is it 
the doctrine of election, whereby God, out of his mere 
love, for the praise of his glorious grace, to be manifest- 
ed in due time, hath, in Christ, chosen some men to 
eternal life and the means thereof — but why may not 
dying infants be among these chosen ones? Is it the 
doctrine of the divine decrees, whereby, for his own 
glory, God hath fore-ordained whatsoever comes to 
pass, especially concerning angels and men — but why 
may not the salvation of all dying infants have been 
thus decreed? Is it the doctrine of God's free and 
rich grace, whereby the holiness, obedience, and right- 
eousness of Christ are imputed to us for justification ; 
and inherent grace is wrought in the heart by the 
Spirit of God, in regeneration ; — but why may not this 
grace be imparted to all dying infants ? If God gives 

* See Works, vol. x. p. 407. t Do. vol. viii. p. 573. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 27 

us hope for such in his blessed Word, then is it not 
manifest that their salvation, instead of being thrown 
upon the contingency of human will ; or being made 
dependent upon human effort ; or connected with the 
moral character or personal agency of infants them- 
selves ; or left at hazard, through the indifference or 
neglect, of men ; — is based by these doctrines upon the 
unchangeable purpose, and the all-sufficient grace of 
God ; and is therefore rendered gloriously certain 
to the bereaved and mourning spirit of the disconsolate 
parent ? If, however, rejecting these doctrines (which 
Calvinists love because doctrines of the Bible) we make 
election to rest on the foreknowledge of good works ;— 
or moral character to depend on moral conduct ;— and 
salvation to be limited, in its flow, to the channel of 
Christian ordinances ; — then what hope can be enter- 
tained for those who have been taken away while as 
yet they could not discern good from evil ; — while 
without any moral character, and thus wholly unfit for 
enjoyment or reward; — and while, as "nameless 
things," they have never passed through the " purify- 
ing entrance" to the kingdom of heaven ? We answer 
— none that is reasonable or satisfactory. 

But on the ground of Calvinism this hope is all that 
can be desired, and arises most naturally from its prin- 
ciples. " In perfect consistency," says Dr. Harris, in 
his Essay on this subject, "with their theological creed, 
have some Calvinists entertained the opinion advocated 
in the preceding pages ; while others, expressing a 
hope of its truth to the full extent, have discovered 
the wished-for evidence, in favour of the children of 
pious persons only ; but none of any consideration are 
known to have maintained, or even allowed, that the 
inference in question (i. e. the damnation of any in- 
fants) is an evident and necessary deduction from Cal- 



28 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

vinistic doctrines. In direct opposition to what must, 
therefore, be considered an unfounded aspersion, it 
would require but little labour to prove, that the great 
peculiarities of this system, supply the most tenable 

AND SATISFACTORY GROUNDS OF HOPE FOR THE 
SALVATION OF ALL WHO DEPART THIS LIFE ANTE- 
CEDENT TO PERSONAL TRANSGRESSION." 

I would here quote the language of one of our oldest 
and most thoroughly Calvinistic Divines, the celebrated 
William Perkins, a Puritan : " Infants have no works 
whereby they may be judged, seeing they do neither 
good nor evil, as the Scripture speaketh of Jacob and 
Esau, Rom. ix. 11. Therefore all shall not be judged 
according to works. Ans. These phrases of Scrip- 
ture, as a man sows, so shall he reap : every one 
shall receive according to his works, fyc. are not to 
be extended to all, but must be restrained to such as 
have works, and knowledge to discern betwixt good 
and evil, which, infants have not. For besides that 
they are destitute of works, they also want the use of 
reason ; and therefore they shall not be judged by the 
book of conscience, but by the book of life. For to say 
as Hugo de S. Vict, doth upon the Romanes, quaest. 
59, that they shall be condemned for the sins which 
their parents committed in their conception and nativ- 
ity, as though they themselves had actually committed 
them, is contrary to that, Ezek. xviii. 20., The son 
shall not bear the iniquity of the Father. 

" Again, some may say, if children do not apprehend 
Christ's benefits by their parent's faith ; how then is 
Christ's righteousness made theirs and they saved? 
Ans. By the inward working of the Holy Ghost, who 
is the principal applier of all graces, whereas faith is 
but the instrument. As for the places of Scripture 
that mention justification and salvation by faith, they 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 29 

are to be restrained to men of years : whereas infants 
dying in their infancy, and therefore wanting actual 
fkith, which none can have without actual knowledge 
of God's will and word, are no doubt saved by some 
other special working of God's Holy Spirit, not known 
to us." " Infants," he adds, " already elected, albeit they, 
in the womb of their mother before they were born, or 
presently after, depart this life, they, I say, being after 
a secret and unspeakable manner, by God's spirit en- 
grafted into Christ, obtain eternal life." 1 Cor. xii. 13. 
Luke i. 35, 41, 64, and Jer. i. 5.* 

And equally strong speaks the great Coryphaeus of 
Calvinism, who carried out its principles to their ex- 
tremest limits, I mean the celebrated Toplady. In his 
vindication of the Church of England from Arminian- 
ism, he had asserted his belief in the salvation of all 
infants dying in infancy. This opinion his opponents 
interpreted as involving the doctrine of general redemp- 
tion. " As if," says Toplady, " all died in infancy." 
u I testify my firm belief, that the souls of all departed 
infants are with God in glory : that, in the decree of 
predestination to life, God hath included all whom he 
intended to take away in infancy ; and that the decree 
of reprobation hath nothing to do with them."t 

" In the mean while (says he) I should be obliged if 
he would, with the help of Mr. Wesley's irradiation, show 
me what becomes of departed infants, upon the Armin- 
ian plan of conditional salvation, and election of good 
works foreseen." 

Dr. Gill, who resembled Toplady in carrying out 
the principles of Calvinism to their extremest limit 3 
also resembled him in holding this comfortable view of 
the doctrine of election. In his Complete Body of 

* Works, Fol. vol. iii. p. 386. Vol. ii p. 127, and vol. i. p. 77. 
t Ditto, vol. i. p. 207. 



30 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Practical and Doctrinal Divinity, he makes the fol- 
lowing remark on the case of infants dying in infancy : 
" Now such a number as they are, can never be 
thought to be brought into being in vain, God is and 
will be glorified in them ; now though their election is 
a secret to us, and unrevealed, it may be reasonably 
supposed, yea in a judgment of charity it may rather 
be concluded, that they are all chosen, than that none 
are. But the election of them cannot be owing to 
their faith, holiness, obedience, good works, and perse- 
verance, or to the foresight of these things, which do 
not appear in them." 

I may refer also to the sentiments of Tyndale, the 
Translator of the New Testament into English ;* of 
Pictet the learned Professor of Geneva ;t to the touch- 
ing letter of Whitefield on the death of his infant son;! 
of Watts to a lady bereaved of several infant children; 
and of the pious Rutherford to a lady on the loss of 
a daughter ;§ of AddingtonJI and of Robert Hall;H of 
Howe,** and of Cotton Mather,tt Buchanan,t+ and 
these are all Calvinists. 

It may be well, however, to add a few more quota- 
tions from Calvinistic writers. Dr. Williams, in his 
" Defence of Modern Calvinism " against the attacks 
and misrepresentations of Bishop Tomline, at p. 75, 
says : " That they [infants] are capable of regeneration 
indeed, is admitted, as well as of remission, justification, 

* See Works, vol ii. p. 516. 

t See his Theol. B. xi. Chap. iv. pp. 494, 495, and p. 444, 445. 
% See Life of, by Philip. 
§ See Letters, Part 2, Letter iii. 
|| Work on Baptism, p. 62-64, 67, 76. 
H Works, vol. i. p. 88, 89. 

** Works of John Howe, vol. iv. p. 4, 5, and vol. vii. p. 544, 5. 
+t See quoted afterwards. 

XX Rev. James Buchanan of Edinburgh, in his Office and Work of the 
Holy Spirit, Part. 1, ch. viii, on the Regeneration of Infants. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 31 

holiness of nature, and heavenly blessedness ; and we 
reflect with pleasure, that the Holy Scriptures afford 
many encouraging intimations relative to the salvation 
of dying infants — whether baptized or not. Though 
they have no hope, we have hope concerning them." 
The same view is also presented in that noble defence 
of Calvinistic doctrine, the Lime Street Lectures, 
where it is said, " an elect infant is as capable of being 
effectually called, or renewed by grace, of being freely 
justified, and for ever glorified, as a grown person."* 
Again, at another place, the subject is more fully dis- 
cussed—" As for infants, we take it for granted, in the 
present argument, that they are conceived in sin, and 
shapen in iniquity ; that that which is born of the 
flesh, is flesh ; that they are, by reason of the disobe- 
dience of the first man, sinners, and so unworthy of, 
and unmeet for, the heavenly glory, and must be ex- 
cluded from it, unless washed in the blood of Jesus 
and sanctified by the Holy Spirit. To suppose them 
all, or indeed any of them, to perish is to be cruelly 
wise above what is written : and to imagine 
they are so holy, as to need no cleansing, or that any 
thing defiled can enter into heaven, is directly flying in 
the face of Scripture : so that, though we are not told 
positively what is their portion ; yet we may safely 

DETERMINE THAT THEY ARE MADE MEET, IF IN 
HEAVEN, FOR THAT INHERITANCE WHICH IS INCOR- 
RUPTIBLE AND UNDEFILED." 

I will only add to these authorities the following 
remarkable quotation from the National Covenant 
adopted in Scotland in the year 1581, again in 1590, 
1638, 1639, 1640, 1650 and 165L "But," says this 
venerable document, in detailing the enormous errors 

* P. 279, 280, Eng, ed, 



32 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

of the Roman Antichrist, " in special we detest and 
refuse his cruel judgment against infants departing 
without the Sacrament, and his absolute necessity of 
baptism," &c.* 

Dr. Junkin, also, of the Presbyterian Church in this 
country, and one of the strongest defenders of strict 
old-fashioned Calvinism, in his late work on the doc- 
trine of Justification, heads his 10th chapter thus : 
" Original Sin — proved from the salvation of those that 
die in infancy." " It is not inconsistent," says he, 
" with any doctrine of the Bible, that the souls of de- 
ceased infants go to heaven." " As to the opinion that 
all who die in infancy, both children of believ- 
ers AND UNBELIEVERS, CHRISTIANS AND PAGANS, 

go to happiness and heaven, it may be harmlessly en- 
tertained; it may however operate an evil influence 
upon the minds of wicked and unbelieving parents." 
" While therefore I have no objection to the opinion 
that all who die in infancy go to happiness, yet I must 
think that in reference to the infants of unbelievers, it 
is mere opinion, although it is in all probability an 
opinion according to truth."t 

The Rev. Thomas Scott the author of the Commen- 
tary, and another of the boldest defenders of the Cal- 
vinistic doctrines, says, " I do not propose it as an arti- 
cle of faith ; for it is not expressly revealed (though it 
appears to be favoured in scripture) that as infants, 
without actual transgression, are involved in the ruin 
of our race by the first Adam, so infants, as such, dy- 
ing before actual transgression, before they are capable 
of knowing right from wrong, are, without personal 
repentance and faith, but not without regeneration, 
made partakers of the salvation of the second Adam. 

* See Xrving's Confession*, p. 135, f P. 141, 143. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 33 

I do not say, ' It is so ;' but, ' probably it may be so.' 
And, when we consider what a large proportion of the 
human race, in every age and nation, die in infancy, it 
appears to me a cheering thought." 

Thus, also, speaks Newton : "I hope you are both 
well reconciled to the death of your child. Indeed, I 
cannot be sorry for the death of infants. How many 
storms do they escape ! Nor can I doubt, in my pri- 
vate judgment, that they are included in the election 
of grace. Perhaps those who die in infancy are the 
exceeding great multitudes of all people, nations, and 
languages mentioned (Rev. vii. 9.) in distinction from 
the visible body of professing believers, who were 
marked in their foreheads, and openly known to be the 
Lord's." 

But these quotations it is unnecessary to multiply. 
In the Presbyterian and other Calvinistic churches, in- 
cluding the Congregational, which embrace the doc- 
trinal portions of the Westminster Confession of Faith, 
there is, it is true, no canonical determination on this 
subject. This Confession says : " Elect infants, dying 
in infancy, are regenerated and saved by Christ 
through the spirit."* It teaches, therefore, the cer- 
tainty OF THE SALVATION OF ALL INFANTS, WHO 

are elect. It also teaches that baptism is not ne- 
cessarily connected with grace and salvation, and that 
exclusion from it does not exclude from regeneration.t 
It teaches further that infants, though incapable of ex- 
hibiting their faith, may be regenerated.! It leaves 
every one therefore from an examination of the Scrip- 
tures to decide how far the electing love of God ex- 
tends. At this time it is, I suppose, universally believ- 

* Ch. 10, sec. 3. t Ch. 28, sec. 5. 

X See note 3, and see Larachi Op. Tom. ii. p. 47, Pick's Theot 
vol, iv. p, 75, and Calvin's Instit, 13, 4, 



34 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

ed by Presbyterians, and those who hold to the doctrine 
of election, that all dying infants are included among 
the elect, are made heirs of grace, and become mem- 
bers of the kingdom of heaven. I, at least, am not ac- 
quainted with any who hold an opposite sentiment. 
Possibly, when the doctrine is extended to the infants 
of Heathen parents, some might not be prepared fully 
to concur in it ; but that there is ground from Scrip- 
ture to believe that even they are included in the 
promises of Divine mercy, and are, as Mr. Toplady 
confidently says, " all undoubtedly saved," is, I have 
no doubt, an opinion to which Presbyterians will, gen- 
erally^ subscribe. The opposite opinion, which has 
been maintained by some Calvinists, in common with 
many Arminians of former days, and which is held 
by the Roman Catholic Church at the present time, 
may be most certainly regarded, as a recent writer has 
said, as " an excrescence, and not an essential feature, 
of the system of Calvinism." 

The assertion, however, is still frequently and most 
slanderously published, that Calvinists believe that 
children, dying in infancy, are damned; that this is 
the doctrine of our confession of faith ; and that Cal- 
vin expressly taught that there are infants in hell only 
a span long. Nothing, however, can be more untrue. 
As to the opinion of Calvinists, we have shown that it 
is now universally in favour of the hope that all chil- 
dren dying in infancy are saved through the merits of 
Christ's death, applied by the Holy Ghost. Calvin, 
also, as has been shown, was among the very first of 
the reformers to overthrow the unchristian and most 
horrible doctrine of the Romish and High-church di- 
vines, that no unbaptized infant can be saved ; to 
maintain the possibility of their regeneration by the 
Spirit without baptism ; and to encourage the hope of 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 35 

their general salvation. And as to the passage in 
the g Westminster Confession of Faith, which is sup- 
posed to teach the damnation of infants, it is contained 
in ch. x. sec. 3, and is as follows : 

" Elect infants, dying in infancy, are regenerated 
and saved by Christ through the Spirit, who worketh 
when, and where, and how he pleaseth. So also are 
all other elect persons, who are incapable of being out- 
wardly called by the Ministry of the Word." 

The subject of this chapter is " effectual calling," by 
which, it is believed, that " all those whom God hath 
predestinated unto life he is pleased, in his appointed 
time, effectually to call out of that state of sin and 
death in which they are, by nature, to grace and sal- 
vation by Jesus Christ," &c. (See Sect. I.) — The Con- 
fession proceeds in Sect. 2d, to say : " This effectual 
call is of God's free and special grace alone, not from 
any thing at all foreseen in man, who is altogether 
passive therein, until being quickened and renewed by 
the Holy Spirit, he is thereby enabled to answer this 
call, and to embrace the grace offered and conveyed in 
it." 

Now the objection which would naturally arise in 
the mind against this doctrine, would be this — If this 
is so, then does not this doctrine apparently exclude in- 
fants from any participation in this salvation, since 
they clearly are not capable of obeying this call, and 
of embracing this offered grace. The Confession, 
therefore, proceeds to obviate this objection by showing 
that, as this calling in itself considered, and the power 
and the. disposition to answer this call, and embrace 
the grace conveyed in it, is a different thing from that 
answer and embrace — there is no more difficulty in 
bestowing this quickening and renewing influence of 
the Holy Spirit upon infants than upon adults. In- 



36 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

fants as well as adults may be thus effectually called 
and regenerated, though adults only are in a state fit- 
ting them to act upon this call by the exercise of their 
renewed powers and sanctified will. Regenerated in- 
fants are equally, with adults, endued with a renewed 
and holy disposition, which will develope itself, when 
the subject is capable, in holy acts. Our Confession, 
therefore, wisely, charitably, and scripturally concludes, 
that this grace is co-extensive with God's electing love 
and mercy, and is bestowed upon the objects of that 
love, whether they are removed from this world in a 
state of infancy, or of maturity. It overthrows the 
doctrine of Romanists, High Church Episcopalians, 
and others, who teach that this grace of salvation, by 
the renewing of the Holy Ghost, is tied down and lim- 
ited—- -first, by what they most vainly and arrogantly 
call the only true Church, to wit, the Romanist or 
Episcopal Churches, and secondly by the ordinances 
of baptism as administered in these churches; and what 
the passage does decide, is, as Calvinists now univer- 
sally agree in believing, that there is every 

REASONABLE GROUND TO HOPE THAT ALL INFANTS 
DYING IN INFANCY ARE INCLUDED IN THE DECREE 
OF ELECTION AND ARE MADE PARTAKERS OF EVER- 
LASTING life.* This, then, is the view of Calvinists ; 
and while it favours the most unbounded charity and 
hope, it rests that hope, not upon any thing in the in- 
fant itself, nor upon any thing done for it by any 
church, but upon the sure purpose of a merciful God, 
and the comfortable promises and declarations of his 
word. 

* Thus Dr. Gumming, of the Scotch Church in London, has lately 
published a Discourse to prove that all children dying in infancy, 

OR BEFORE THE YEARS OF RESPONSIBILITY, ARE, WITHOUT ONE EXCEP- 
TION OR LIMITATION AS TO THE CHARACTER OR THE CONDUCT OF THE 
PARENTS, SAVED. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 37 

Among all evangelical denominations this 
opinion is now received. We have given the 
names of Evangelical Episcopalians. Gillard, whose 
treatise I have mentioned, was, I presume, both a Bap- 
tist and a Calvinist. Dr. Gill's sentiments have been 
alluded to, and they are quoted with approbation in 
the Baptist Confession of Faith. The Rev. Robert 
Robinson, who has written the History of Baptism, 
thus expresses himself : "Various opinions concerning 
the future state of infants have been adopted. The 
most probable opinion seems to be, that they are all 
saved through the merit of the Mediator, with an ever- 
lasting salvation. This hath nothing in it contrary to 
the perfections of God, or to any declarations of the 
holy scriptures ; and it is highly agreeable to all those 
passages, which affirm, where sin hath abounded, 
grace hath much more abounded. On these princi- 
ples, the death of Christ saves more than the fall of 
Adam lost.'' 

Wesley does not appear to have determined this 
question at all. The salvation of all dying in infancy 
is, however, the prevalent belief among his followers. 
The Rev. Richard AVatson, who is deservedly regarded 
as the ablest writer, and as a standard authority 
among the Methodists, very powerfully advocates this 
opinion.* 

This is also the established belief of the Lutheran 
Church,t as it is of the Quaker denomination.!: 

But whence, we ask, arose this community of opin- 
ion? It originated, as has been shown, among the 



* See his Institutes, vol. ii. p. 228, and vol. iii. p. 12. 

t See Schmucker's Theology, 128, and p. 220. Storr & Flatt's 
Theology, sec. 68, p. 394. Mosheim wrote a treatise, which -we have 
not seen, on this subject. 

J See Barclay's Apology, 

4 



38 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Calvinists. The battle for liberty and charity of opin- 
ion against the dogmas of the church was fought by 
them. Even when light had not irradiated the subject, 
and it was still shrouded in the darkness of prejudice, 
many Calvinists, rather than yield to the gloom of the 
generally entertained opinion that all unbaptized in- 
fants perish, groped about for any possible theory that 
might relieve them of their distress. Some, as I have 
shown, threw a veil of impenetrable darkness over the 
whole subject, and regarded an entrance upon its ex- 
amination as presumption.* Others were induced to 
believe that the souls of all such children would be an- 
nihilated.t Others, that their souls remained in a state 
of insensibility either to good or eviij All advocated 
the possibility of their salvation — the practicability 
of their regeneration — and all denied the absolute ne- 
cessity of baptism to either. And can any one deny 
that the present clear and settled views on this subject 
have been introduced by Calvinists? Let him only 
remember that every one of the works and discourses 
on the subject to which I have alluded, were written 
by Calvinists ; that almost all the selections I have 
been enabled to collect are from writers holding the 
same views ; and that much even of the finest of our 
Poetical Selections, are from authors whose muse was 
guided by Calvinistic views. Our work, in fact, may 
be regarded as a noble testimony to the truly scriptural 
and charitable nature of those much abused, be- 
cause misunderstood, doctrines which most Evangelical 
churches agree in adopting. And surely it may be 
expected, that these facts will give joy and consolation 
to those christians whose ideas of Calvinism have been 

* See De Moor, Stapfer, Doddridge, (sec. 168,) Baxter, 
t This was Dr. WattsUaboured hypothesis. °^e Works, 
t Pr, Ridgley advocated this opinion. Se© «** divinity. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 39 

such as to lead them to cherish the prejudices that are 
so commonly and so ignorantly entertained, and enable 
them to cherish more kind and liberal feelings towards 
Calvinistic churches. 

And that the reader may still more clearly perceive 
how much bereaved parents are indebted to Calvinism 
for the present comfortable and established hopes for 
dying infants, let me call his attention to the conflict- 
ing opinions which once prevailed on this much con- 
troverted subject, as they are given by Baxter : 

" Some think that all infants (baptized or not) are 
saved from hell, and positive punishment, but are not 
brought to heaven, as being not capable of such joys. 

" Some think that all infants (dying such) are saved 
as others are, by actual felicity in heaven, though in a 
lower degree. Both these sorts suppose that Christ's 
death saveth all that reject it not, and that infants re- 
ject it not. 

" Some think that all unbaptized infants do suffer 
the ' pcenam damni,' and are shut out of heaven and 
happiness, but not sensibly punished or cast into hell. 
For this Jansenius hath wrote a treatise ; and maay 
other Papists think so. 

" Some think that all the children of sincere believers 
dying in infancy are saved, (that is, glorified,) whether 
baptized or not ; and no others. 

" Some think that God hath not at all revealed what 
he will do with any infants. 

" Some think that all the adopted and bought chil- 
dren of true Christians, as well as the natural, are 
saved (if baptized, say some ; or if not, say others.) 

" Some think that elect infants are saved, and no 
other. 

" Some think that all that the pastor dedicateth to 
God are saved, 



40 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

" Some think that this is to be limited to all that 
have right to baptism ' coram Deo ;' which some think 
the Church's reception giveth them. 

" And some think it is to be limited to those that 
have right i coram ecclesia,' or are rightfully baptized/' 

Bereaved Parent ! what would be the aggravation 
of your distress if still plunged in this vortex of con- 
flicting opinions ? and how much, therefore, should it 
add to your patient resignation to the will of God in 
the removal of your children, when you find that all 

BRANCHES OF THE PROTESTANT EVANGELICAL 
CHURCH, HAVE NOW COME TO A COMMON AND 
UNITED BELIEF, THAT THERE IS EVERY REASON 
TO HOPE, THAT, IN SO DOING, GoD HAS SECURED 
THEIR SALVATION, AND WOULD ALSO LEAD TO 
YOUR SPIRITUAL AND EVERLASTING GOOD. 

It will be our object, then, to illustrate this subject, 
and to prove the salvation of those who die before they 
reach the age of personal responsibility, or in other 
words, before they become, properly speaking, moral 
agents. It is by no means pretended that we can pre- 
cisely specify the exact period when personal accounta- 
bility commences. This will vary in different individ- 
uals, according to the degree of natural faculties of 
which they are severally possessed, and according to 
the means which they have enjoyed for their develop- 
ment. Some may be as accountable when but a few 
years old, as others are when double their age. It is 
for parents then to begin as soon as practicable to train 
up their children in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord; to seek to instil into their tender minds the 
truths of the gospel ; and to bear them on their hearts 
at the throne of the heavenly grace; and then the 
event may be left with confidence in the hands of the 
God of all mercy and faithfulness.". 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 41 

In doing this, however, let none imagine that we are 
about to lose sight of any of the great doctrines of the 
evangelical system, and be thereby led to entertain 
doubts or prejudices against our views. 

To use the words of Dr. Russell, in his valuable Es- 
say on this subject, " Though the great question is, 
c What saith the scriptures?' and not, What saith this or 
the other reformer ? yet, as names are sometimes used 
as the means of reproaching the innocent, and mislead- 
ing the unwary, and the uninformed, it may be proper to 
state, that there is nothing in the great peculiarities of 
the system commonly called moderate Calvinism which 
is in the least incompatible with the salvation of infants. 
On the contrary, that system, as now held by its en- 
lightened advocates, furnishes the most tenable and sat- 
isfactory grounds for the pleasing persuasion, that all 
who die without personal transgression, are written in 
the Lamb's book of life. Accordingly, very many of its 
most decided friends have avowed their conviction of 
this, in relation to all dying in infancy. And even 
some of the very highest, if not even hyper-Calvinists, 
have expressed themselves favourably in regard to it.— 
This, for instance, has been done by Dr. Gill, who says, 
{ that many unguarded expressions have been dropped, 
concerning the punishment of such, which are not at 
all to the credit of truth.'* Mr. Toplady, to whom we 
have already referred, has given an explanation of our 
Lord's admonition in Matth. xviii. 10, which (suppos- 
ing it to be just) affords a direct proof of the sentiment 
in question. ' Take heed that ye despise not one of 
these little ones, for I say unto you, that in heaven 
their angels do always behold the face of my Father 
which is in heaven.' He understands by their angels, 

* Body of frivinity, vol ii. p. 543, 

4* 



42 solace' for bereaved parents. 

{ the souls of such children as die in their infancy/ 
who upon their bodies being previously ' dislodged by 
death, do always behold the face of God, who is in 
heaven.'* Now, whatever may be thought of this in- 
terpretation of the passage, or of the word angel, in 
this 'connexion, (which some think is supported by 
Acts xii. 15,) it will be allowed, that the salvation of 
infants was not considered by this writer as inconsist- 
ent even with the high views which he connected with 
the doctrine of election, and in the defence of which 
he was so active and zealous. In other parts of his 
works, he expresses his full conviction, that all dying 
in infancy are saved through Christ. It must be very 
uncandid, then, to represent a man as inimical to the 
principles of what is called modern or moderate Calvin- 
ism, because he believes in the salvation of departed 
infants, when the sentiment has been held by some of 
the keenest defenders of the very highest Calvinism.t 
It may be added, that the opposite sentiment has not 
been exclusively held by persons of one school of theol- 
ogy, for not a few Anti-Calvinists have held, that a 
great proportion of those who die in infancy, are at 
least excluded from the benefits of redemption. The 
question of course is, on what grounds do the respec- 
tive advocates of these different views rest their partic- 
ular sentiments ? That some maintain ihe universal 
salvation of deceased infants on unscriptural grounds 
is true, but is this a reason for charging all who hold 
the sentiment with those errors, in the face of evidence 
sufficient to satisfy every candid mind, that they rest it 
on grounds altogether different 2 It were well, if some 
of the friends of Calvinism would take the advice 

* Historic proof of the Calvinism of the Church of England. In- 
trod. p. 78. 
t Toplady's Works, vol. i. pp. 101, 207, 308. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 43 

given by Bishop Horsley to his enemies, l Take special 
care before you aim your shafts at Calvinism that you 
know what it is.' Not a few who profess to hold that 
system, are but little acquainted with it, and confound 
certain illegitimate inferences drawn from it, with hos- 
tility to the system itself, while Anti-Calvinists continue 
to charge the friends of Calvinism with holding those 
inferences in the face of repeated denials. This is 
very unfair. I refer here, in particular, to the doctrine 
of sovereign reprobation, and to what is connected with 
it. It is a fact, too, that some who wish to be consid- 
ered the only friends of Calvinism, hold sentiments 
which were by no means held by Calvin, and not 
seldom represent sentiments as Arminian, which were 
actually held by him. In a word, let candour be ex- 
ercised, and never let those be blamed as inimical to a 
particular system, who may be unwilling to admit 
some unjust and exceptionable inferences, which have 
been rashly drawn from it, because they appear to 
them injurious excrescences, that deform and weaken 
its strength." 

There is, then, every thing to carry the arguments 
of the following chapters with power and consolation 
to the heart of every bereaved parent, and thus to shed 
the bright beams of hope upon the gloom of his sor- 
row, to take from the death of infants its sting, to dis- 
arm their grave of all victory, and to enable their pa- 
rents to rejoice in the comfortable hope that they are 
exalted to glory, honour, and immortality. 

I never grieve to see an infant die, 

Or mark the frost of death within its eye ; 

'Tis but a messenger — a welcome guest — 

To hie its spirit to the world of rest. 

Who, who would weep, or mournful heave a sigh, 

To watch its progress to its native sky? 



44 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Who, who would have it longer stay on earth, 
When there awaits it an immortal birth ? 

Sin, with its dreadful impress, marks our race, 
In every form its ravages we trace ; 
From earliest dawn of life to hoary age, 
The fell destroyer vents his fiercest rage. 
All, all must die — then wherefore long delay, 
And whence the wish to dwell in cumbrous clay ? 
Why cling to life with such tenacity, 
When death but gives a blest eternity ? 

The gospel consolation meets us here, 
To banish doubt and quell each anxious fear : 
" As little children such the kingdom is, 
Forbid them not, for they shall live in bliss. 7 ' 
Blest promise to the heart oppressed with pain ; 
Our loss shall prove but their eternal gain j 
And while we shed the sympathetic tear, 
They shall arise, and " read their title clear I" 

I saw a precious babe convulsed with pain ; 

I marked the heaving of its little breast j 

I saw it wither, waste, and die, 

But knew its spirit panted for the sky. 

Say, shall we mourn for such a loss as this ? 

Say, would we stay it from immortal bliss? 

Ah ! no ; but when life's dullsome dreams are o'er, 

We'll join it, there to dwell forever more. 

" The death of children," to use the words of Dr. 
Lawson, another Calvinistic and old divine, "puts a 
final period to all that we can do for them, but our 
grief on this occasion is effectually counterbalanced by 
the consciousness that we have earnestly endeavoured 
to do what lay in our power whilst they were with us ; 
especially when we have good reason to hope that our 
prayers for them have not been rejected, and that Di- 
vine Mercy led them safe through life and death to a 
world from whence they would not for a thousand 
worlds return. I have lost for the rest of my time in 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 45 

this world some children whose faces I always beheld 
with pleasure, but I hope, young as they were, they 
were better fitted for leaving this world than I am. 
We are authorized by Scripture, without expecting a 
revelation from God respecting their state, to rejoice in 
the hope that they are sleeping in Jesus, and living 
with him, shall be brought with him in the great day 
of his appearance.' 5 * 

Sure, to the mansions of the blest 

When infant innocence ascends, 
Some angel, brighter than the rest, 

The spotless spirit's flight attends. 
On wings of ecstacy they rise, 

Beyond where world's material roll. 
Till some fair sister of the skies 

Receives the unpolluted soul. 

That inextinguishable beam, 

With dust united at our birth, 
Sheds a more dim, discoloured gleam, 

The more it lingers upon earth. 
Closed in this dark abode of clay, 

The stream of glory faintly burns : — 
Not unobserved, the lucid ray 

To its own native fount returns. 

i 

But when the Lord of mortal breath 

Decrees his bounty to resume, 
And points the silent shaft of death 

Which speeds an infant to the tomb- 
No passion fierce, nor low desire, 

Has quenched the radiance of the flame ; 
Back to its God the living fire 

Reverts, unclouded as it came. 

Fond mourner ! be that solace thine ! 

Let Hope her healing charm impart, 
And soothe, with melodies divine, 

The anguish of a mother's heart. 

* Discourses, p. 23. 



46 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

O, think ! the darlings of thy love, 
Divested of this earthly clod, 

Amid unnumbered saints above, 
Bask in the bosom of their God. 

Of their short pilgrimage on earth 

Still tender images remain : 
Still, still they bless thee for their birth, 

Still filial gratitude retain. 
Each anxious care, each rending sigh, 

That wrung for them the parent's breast, 
Dwells on remembrance in the sky, 

Amid the raptures of the blest. 

O'er thee, with looks of love, they bend ; 

For thee the Lord of life implore : 
And oft from sainted bliss descend. 

Thy wounded quiet to restore. 
Oft in the stillness of the night, 

They smooth the pillow of thy bed, 
Oft till the morn's returning light 

Still watchful hover o'er thy head. 

Hark ! in such strains as saints employ, 

They whisper to thy bosom peace ; 
Calm the perturbed heart to joy, 

And bid the streaming sorrow cease. 
Then dry, henceforth, the bitter tear : 

Their part and thine inverted see, 
Thou wert their guardian angel here, 

They guardian angels now to thee ! 



CHAPTER III. 



THE NECESSITY FOR DISCUSSING THE DOCTRINE OF THE SAL- 
VATION OF INFANTS. 



O Lord, the message from thy throne has come ! 

We hear thy voice, and give her back to thee ; 
With tears we lay our darling in the tomb ; 

In faith her spirit at thy feet we see. 



Death is one of the profoundest mysteries of Nature. 
With all the light which science has thrown around it ; 
with all the increased knowledge we have acquired of 
its phenomena ; life, in its origin, in its nature, and in 
its cessation, remains as incomprehensible as ever. We 
stand amazed at the entrance into our world of a new, liv- 
ing, and active being — the miniature of man — breathing 
the same air, and exercising the same functions, inca- 
pable of instruction, and yet displaying the most per- 
fect knowledge, wholly unable to help himself, and yet 
exhibiting the most inimitable skill. How then are we 
filled with horror, when that same being, even in its 
beauty, " a thing all health and glee," is prostrated by 
some invisible power, upturns its glazed eye, and with 
the quivering of its soft lip and the convulsion of its 
little limbs, sinks into the waxen form of death. 

Were an inhabitant of some other world, where im- 
mortality was the duration of existence, and perpetual 
bloom the appearance of the outward form, by any 
chance to visit this ; probably he would first be attract- 
ed by the glory of that same God he had ever worship- 
ped, written, as it is, in such lines of magnificence and 



48 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

beauty upon the heavens above, and upon the firma- 
ment around. The same wisdom, goodness and pow- 
er, in which he had ever rejoiced, would shine forth re- 
splendently from every star, and from every mountain, 
lake and valley. The same chorus sung by those 
above, ascribing glory, honour, majesty and praise unto 
God Most High, would echo from the earth beneath, 
and swell the anthem of the skies. He would still feel 
in his own breast the spirk of piety — the spirit of joy, 
and peace, and devotion ; — and he would still feel that 
he moved amid the wonders of His creating hand who 
fills the universe with his praise. 

But what would be the emotions of this stranger, 
when he turned his gaze towards the inhabitants of 
this fair creation ? When he saw sickness or pain — 
bed-ridden decrepitude, or helpless old age, — when he 
heard groans and lamentations, the voice of misery and 
care, or the loud wail of bereavement — in every house- 
hold ? When he beheld the moving form of strength, 
and beauty, and intelligence, withered by the blast of 
death, become pale, motionless, and ghastly — how great 
would be his unutterable terror ! Surely he would at 
once conclude that they were a race of bold and hard- 
ened sinners, against whom the fierceness of the anger 
of the Almighty was poured out. 

But when he observed yet longer — when he saw man 
in the innocency of his first young dawn, with rosy lip 
and cherub eye, his countenance radiant with smiles, 
and his heart filled with love, as yet unconscious of his 
relation to his God, and incapable of wilfully offending 
him,— when he saw this young voyager not yet well 
launched upon the ocean of life— wrecked upon its very 
coast, cast among its roughest breakers, shattered by its 
fiercest storms, and borne into eternity by most disas- 
trous calamity ;— when he saw the cradle ? instead of 



J50LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 49 

being a place of rest, converted into a little hospital, and 
its babe, instead of a gentle sleeper laughing through 
its sweet dreams of yet untasted happiness, a sufferer 
torn and agonized by writhing and convulsive torture, 
with the cup of life dashed from its lips ere it had well 
tasted of its hopes or its blessings — would he not ex- 
claim, " My God, and can it be ! Is not this thine own 
creation ? Are not these thine own offspring ? If, then, 
parents are wicked, and deserve thy wrath, yet surely 
these l innocents' might be spared their sufferings, 
What fiend of darkness has gained possession of this 
earth, and fixed here his empire of horrid cruelty ? 
' Thy judgments, O Lord, are a great deep* They are 
unsearchable, and past finding out. 5 " 

Truly, these feelings would not be strange in such a 
visitant, at such a sight. They would be our own, 
were we not familiarized to such scenes of woe. For, 
w T hile reason might teach us that it was well for those 
who had outlived the activities and the joys of life to leave 
it--that they were happy who, ere that period of imbe- 
cility arrived, had retired from its coming ills ; — yet 
never could we learn from reason alone that it was right, 
or that it was well for those who had passed through 
the painful entrance of life, and had not yet awakened to 
the realization of its joys, to be driven through its still 
more painful exit. No ! Death is the profoundest 
mystery of Nature, and the sufferings and death of in- 
fants the profoundest mystery of Death. 

Nay, my reader, have you not yourself felt, in some 
hour of sad bereavement, the unsearchable mystery of 
this dispensation of Providence ? I address myself now 
to those who, like myself, are the parents of children 
who were, but are not. When in the very fulness of 
life, while buoyant with playful mirth, and drinking in 
the promise of a happy future, and while forming to you 

5 



50 SOLACE FOR BEItEAVED PARENTS. 

the objects of so many tender solicitudes and fond hopes, 
you saw your beloved child bowed down by the pres- 
ence of some sudden disease ; — when unable to tell its 
woes you saw its playfulness forsake it ; its smiles, one 
by one, depart ; the happy expression of its sweet 
countenance give place to one of painfulness; its 
strength gradually fail ; its voice become too weak to 
utter even the lisping name of its loved nurse or parent ; 
— when you watched beside the little sufferer, incredu- 
lous that it could die, as it sunk rapidly into insensibil- 
ity, until at last the glazed eye, the unmoving chest, the 
pulseless arm, and the inexpressible solemnity of Death 
startled you into the awful truth that it was gone ; — 
oh ! in that hour of intensest agony, did there not seem 
to fall upon a world, ere while fair and bright, one wide 
covering of gloom ? Did there not appear, amid the 
busiest haunts of men, to be the silence of desolation ? 
Did not life cease to have any charms, fortune any at- 
tractions, and earth itself any possible endurance ? Did 
not the full heart swell with unholy murmuring against 
Him who made you, and who made your offspring, 
only to make you, as the Evil One would then suggest, 
miserable by their destruction ? In such circumstances 
a desolate father, even with christian hopes, but not in 
the exercise of christian faith, would say, 

K For oh ! to dry a mother's tears, 

Another babe may bloom, 
But what remains on earth to him, 

Whose last is in the tomb ! 
To think his child is blest above, 

To pray their parting brief, 
These, these may soothe, but death alone, 

Can heal a father's grief."* 

* A Father's Grief, in Poems, by the Rev. T. Dale. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS*. 51 

Is it any wonder that, in such a time of human 
weakness and woe, when under no guidance or restraint 
from the truths of a heavenly faith, the Heathen moth- 
er will mangle herself with torture, will dishevel her- 
self of all future charms, and cut herself off, if not from 
life, yet from all future interest in it ?* The sorrow of 

* This description will not appear exaggerated to those who have had 
an opportunity of witnessing the workings of nature in the bereaved 
mother, when its violence is not restrained by the powerful hand of re- 
ligious principle, or by the presence of other motives exercising a similar 
control. A father, who was quite respectable and intelligent, but not 
pious, once said to me, when his child had been taken from him, "My 
God, what have I done against thee, to deserve this at thy hands." 
How frequently are parents found under similar circumstances, altogeth- 
er unwilling to give up their children, and wholly unable to acknowledge 
the wisdom or goodness which led to their removal. I have seen a 
mother weep at the recollection of an infant which had been separated 
from her many years previously. " It is," says Doddridge, " to a pa- 
rent indeed such a cutting stroke, that I wonder not if nature shrink 
back at the very mention of it."* 

■ When once the mind has surmounted the difficulties that press upon 
it," says a bereaved parent, "it acts with increased vigour and a more 
enlarged freedom. At first the attention becomes riveted to the mass 
of breathless clay. With a too intense, but pardonable fondness, it 
clings, as Doddridge tenderly expresses it, to s the darling dust.' There 
is the image of your child ; and what a ray of comfort darts across the 
deep sorrow of the soul, when you can see or say, or hear others say, 
1 she looks natural J 9 Not long will that be true. Those lips once in- 
stinct with the warm colouring of life, are now cold and colourless. Would 
they would remain even so ! But no, they must decay, and be hidden 
in the dust. The cheek that was often pressed to yours in the ardour of 
filial love, has now on it only the marble chill of death. Oh, how the 
heart writhes in a paroxysm of agony, when the truth and reality of the 
thing are felt. Would it were literal marble, that the heart might love 
that ; but no, the decay of the grave must deform and dissolve the fair 
clay. The slumberer will not indeed be sensible to this process, but the 
living know it. The father knows that the cherished form of his child 
moulders in the grave. The mother knows that the loved one, whom 
she bore, and nursed, and fondled, is now buried out of her sight. Such 
is the sad necessity of death ! And it is on these subjects that the mind 
is too apt to dwell." 

Now, if such is the truth in reference to christian communities, how 
much more violent must be the ebullitions of grief in the hearts of heath- 
en parents, when vice and superstitious belief have not extinguished all 
maternal affection. That parental feeling survives amid the wreck of 
every better principle, and actuates the bosom of the pagan mother as 

* Doddridge's Works, vol. ill. p. 325, 



52 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

the world worketh death. Its darkness deepens into 
the midnight of despair. And the hopes of the glorious 

far as she is permitted to manifest it, as powerfully as that of the more 
civilized and enlightened parent. I might bring many instances to prove 
this. The following relation by Mr. Rich, in his Narrative of a Resi- 
dence in Koordistan, will be regarded as beyond any possible misinter- 
pretation. Describing a Mussulman acquaintance, he says, 

" Mahmood Pasha is, indeed, a very estimable man, and I shall al- 
ways think of him with affection. His very countenance is indicative 
of purity, of candour, and simplicity. I never expected to meet with 
such a man in the East. I fear many such are net to be met with in 
better climes. There is a melancholy and a tenderness in his character 
which render him very interesting. He is all feeling. The death of his 
son he will not readily get over ; and I will confidently assert, that no 
native of the East ever loved his wife and children as he does. Yester- 
day, he went into the harem for the first time since the unhappy event. 
A child of his brother's met him, and called him father. That name, 
and the infantine voice in which it was pronounced, were too much for 
him ; he shrieked and fell senseless to the ground. It must be recollect- 
ed that all grief is reprobated by the Mahometan religion, which preach- 
es only apathy and sternness ; and excess of feeling for a woman or 
a child is universally despised by the followers of Islam." 

To this affecting narration may be added the testimony of Euripides, 
who, in" The Supplicants," represents the Iphisu thus speaking : 

" Observing other houses 

Flourish with children, I grew fond of them, 

And wish'd to be a father ; had I known, 

Had I experienced what a father feels 

When of a child bereaved, I had not fallen 
jj Into this present woe. I wish'd, I gained 

| A Son with every excellence adorned ; 

Of him I am bereaved. 

What shall this wretch now do ? Should I return 

To my own house ? Sad desolation there 

I shall behold, to sink my soul with grief."* 

The chorus of bereaved Argive mothers then take up the lamenta- 
tion: 

" Look here, look there ; the ashes of my son 
Warm from the funeral pile they bring ; 

Support me, 
My female train, support my feeble age. 
Grief for my son, long rankling at my heart, 
Hath wasted all my strength ; a greater grief 
Can mortals know, thro' all the various ills 

* Potter's Translation, vol. ii. p. 45, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 53 

gospel of the blessed God form the only anchor which 
can hold fast the soul amid the swellings of such a 
tempest. 

Of life than this, to see their children dead. 

* * * * 

Where now are all a mother's nursing cares, 
Her watchings o'er her son, her sleepless nights, 
And the fond kiss on his dear cheek impressed ? 
All lost ; thy sons too, thou sad mother, lost ; 
The ethereal air now has them, from the flames 
Nought but this little heap of ashes left. 
Too hastily to Pluto's halls they sunk."* 

Once more, in his Rhesus, Euripides thus represents the muse as 
speaking : 

" Ye pangs that rend a parent's heart, of ills 
To mortals the severest, he who deems 
Rightly of you, will childless pass through life, 
Nor shed a parent s tear on a child's tomb."* 

This accords with the account given of Octavia, sister of the Emper- 
or Augustus, the death of whose son Marcel! us, threw her into a state 
of despair, from which she never recovered during the twelve years of 
mourning in which she survived her child. Cicero himself, prince of 
philosophers as he was, when deprived of his favourite daughter Tullia, 
lost all command of himself, gave himself up to the most violent and in- 
curable grief, and had determined to erect a temple to her memory, and 
worship her as a goddess. 

We will close this long note with the following piece from Mrs. Sig- 
ourney, which will at the same time, inspire gratitude, and lead to pray- 
erful efforts for the unsolaced heathen : 

THE AFRICAN MOTHER AT HER DAUGHTER'S GRAVE. 

Some of the Pagan Africans visit the burial places of their departed 
relatives, bearing food and drink ; and mothers have been known, for a 
long course of years, to bring, in an agony of grief, their annual obla- 
tions to the tombs of their children. 

Daughter ! — I bring thee food, 

The rice-cake pure and white, 
The cocoa, with its milky blood, 

Dates and pomegranates bright ; 
The orange in its gold, 

Fresh from thy favourite tree, 



* See alio Todd's Truth Made Simple, p. 89, 90. 
5* 



64 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

u I know not a thought," says Doddridge, " in the 
whole compass of nature, that hath a more powerful 
tendency than this, to produce suspicious notions of 
God, and a secret alienation of heart from him." A 
very respectable gentleman, not a professor of religion, 
who lost a little son, said to me, " I have tried to philos- 
ophise on the subject, but philosophy will not do." The 
language of nature, on this subject, is thus spoken by 



Nuts in their ripe and husky fold, 
Dearest ! I spread for thee. 

Year after year I tread 

Thus to thy low retreat, 
But now the snow-hairs mark my head, 

And age enchains my feet ; 
Oh ! many a change of woe 

Hath dimmed thy spot of birth, 
Since first my gushing tears did flow 

O'er this thy bed of earth. 

But thou art slumbering deep, 

And to my wildest cry, 
When pierced with agony I cry, 

Dost render no reply. 
Daughter ! my youthful pride, 

The idol of my eye, 
Why did'st thou leave thy mother's side 

Beneath these sands to lie ? 

Long o'er the hopeless grave, 
Where her lost darling slept, 

Invoking gods that could not save 
That pagan mourner wept. 

Oh ! for some voice of power 
To soothe her bursting sighs, 

u There is a resurrection hour ! 

L, Thy daughter's dust shall rise !" 

Christians ! — ye hear the cry 
From heathen Afric's strand, 

Haste ! lift salvation's banner high 
O'er that benighted land ; 

With faith that claims the skies 
Her misery control, 

And plant the hope that never dies, 

~ Peep in her tear- wet wul. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 55 

Lamb, when describing " a floweret crushed in the bud, 
in her coffin lying :' ; he says 3 

" Riddle of destiny, who, can show, 
What thy short visit meant, or know 

What thy errand here below ? 

# # # # 

The economy of heaven is dark," &c* 

Could we be present in every part of the globe, we 
should find that each day ushered its thousands into 
being, and conducted its thousands out of it ; — we 
should find that of all who are born heirs of mortality, 
one half are cut off from their inheritance by an early 
death, and that thus one half of the entire race of man, 
from its beginning to its close, never live to be men.f 
Beautiful as the dew-drops of the morning, they pass 
like them from earth. Fragrant as the breath of spring, 
they are poisoned by the torrid rays of an ungenial 
summer. Lovely as the lambkins, bleating after their 
dams upon the daisied meadow, they are led, like them, 
to an apparent slaughter. Mystery of mysteries hid 
from the comprehension of reason, hast thou ever been 
made known to man ? As parents, as mothers and as 
fathers, or as those who may sustain those tender rela- 
tions, as relatives and friends, we are all deeply interest- 
ed in this inquiry. 

" Upon the pallid face of the dead infant, there are 
awfully mysterious hieroglyphics, which reason cannot 
decypher, at the depth of which nature staggers and 
grows faint. Christianity alone reads them. She pours 
from the fountain of truth, living light into each dark 

* Works, vol. i. p. 409. 

t " We find," says Watts, " more than a third part of the race of 
man dying before they arrive at two years old, and about half before 
five."* 

* See Philosophy of Death, and Quatelet's Philosophy of Man. 



56 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

symbol, and illuminates it with the rays of the past, 
and the lights of the future, showing death once victo- 
rious by sin, but now for ever vanquished by Christ." 
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, who, by the gospel, has brought to us that light 
by which I feel that I can confidently sustain the 
answer I would give to the interrogatory of" such a 
perplexed inquirer. Children are taken away 

IN INFANCY NOT IN ANGER, BUT IN MERCY, AND 
NOT FOR OUR PUNISHMENT MERELY, BUT MUCH 

more for our good. Death is to them a kindness, 
to us a blessing. They are removed from this world 
in mercy to them and in goodness to us. These are 
the two points to which I shall now call the attention 
of my reader. 

Pray unto God, my friend, that these considerations 
may prove comfortable and beneficial to your disconso- 
late heart. 

I cannot make him dead ! 

His fair sunshiny head 
Is ever bounding round my study chair; 

Yet when my eyes, now dim 

With tears, I turn to him, 
The vision vanishes — he is not there 1 

I walk my parlour floor, 

And, through the open door, 
I hear a footfall on the chamber stair ; 

I'm stepping toward the hall, 

To give the boy a call, 
And then bethink me that— he is not there ! 

I tread the crowded street, 

A satchePd lad I meet, 
With the same beaming eyes and coloured hair ; 

And, as he's running by, 

Follow him with my eye, 
Scarcely believing that — he is not there ! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 57 

I know his face is hid 

Under the coffin lid ; 
Closed are his eyes ; cold is his forehead fair ; 

My hand that marble felt ; 

O'er it in prayer I knelt ; 
Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there ! 

I cannot make him dead ! 

When passing by his bed, 
So long watched over with parental care, 

My spirit and my eye 

Seek it inquiringly, 
Before the thought comes that — he is not there 1 

When at the cool, grey break 

Of day, from sleep I wake, 
With my first breathing of the morning air. 

My soul goes up, with joy, 

To Him who gave my boy ; 
Then comes the sad thought that — he is not there ! 

When at the day's calm close, 

Before we seek repose, 
Pm with his mother, offering up our prayer, 

Whate'er I may be saying ', 

I am, in spirit, praying 
For our boy's spirit, though — he is not there I 

Not there ? — Where, then, is he ? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he used to wear. 

The grave, that now doth press 

Upon that cast-off dress, 
Is but his wardrobe locked ; — he is not there 1 

He lives !— -In all the past 

He lives ; nor, to the last, 
Of seeing him again will I despair ; 

In dreams I see him now, 

And on his angel brow, 
I see it written, " Thou shalt see me there l n 



08 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Yes, we all live to God ! 

Father, thy chastening rod 
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear, 

That in the spirit land, 

Meeting at thy right hand, 
'Twill be our heaven to find that — he is there ! 



CHAPTER IV. 

CHILDREN ARE TAKEN AWAY IN INFANCY IN MERCY TO THEM. 



When the Archangel's trump shall blow, 

And souls to bodies join ; 
Millions shall wish their lives below 

Had been as short as thine. 



It will be our object in this chapter to show that the 
dispensation of Providence by which children are re- 
moved in infancy is ordered in mercy to them. 

It is so, considered as it affects them temporally. 
Their early dismissal from all the pains and perils of 
this mortal life, is a manifestation of tenderness: it 
shows a willingness to save from all unnecessary trial, 
and an unwillingness needlessly to afflict. 

Life, at its very best estate, is vanity. In its full 
splendour of gaiety it is " vexation of spiriit." When 
ambition has scaled the very loftiest height of its proud- 
est aspiration, it feels its loneliness and misery more 
keenly than ever. 

Ah ! little deemest thou, my child, 
The way of life is dark and wild ! 
Its sunshine but a light whose play, 
Serves but to dazzle and betray ; 
Weary and long — its end the tomb, 
Whose darkness spreads her wings of gloom, 
That resting-place of things which live, 
The goal of all that earth can give. 

So universal is this estimate of the present " fashion 
of this" sin-ruined " world," that even heathen philoscn 



60 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS 

phy pronounced the early dead the favourites of the 
Gods. 

Lady, we have much cause to thank ourselves 
Touching our daughter bless'd ; for 'mong the Gods 
Cominercing she in truth resides.* 

The Christian dead, then, who under the smiles of 
Heaven are early delivered from this vain unsatisfying 
portion, miserable ! Tell it not at Rome, or Athens, 
lest the philosophers of Paganism should rejoice over 
the weakness of Christianity. 

The great proportion, too, of those who do live to 
mature years, become entirely estranged from God, and 
live without him, and without hope for the world to 
come. But by their early removal from the tempta- 
tions arising from the world, the flesh and the Devil, 
infants are forever preserved from such open apostacy. 
Should they, on the other hand, be supposed to live 
and become holy and devoted Christians, then it is to 
be remembered that in this world " the righteous shall 
have tribulation, for through much tribulation they 
must enter the kingdom of God, they must suffer, and 
then enter into glory;" and that from an entrance upon 
this path of sorrow, this narrow road, this way of the 
cross, such infants are forever delivered. 

The apprehension of coming evils, which, like ghosts, 
haunt our paths and mock our joys, is a most fruitful 
source of misery to man ; but from all such anticipa- 
tions of distress, whether real or imaginary, the early 
dead have been most effectually protected. The cold- 
ness of those who should have been our warmest 
friends ; the averted countenance of those who had 
once smiled upon us in perfect love ; and the estranged 

* Euripid, Iphig. 1. 1804 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 61 

affections of the heart in which our soul had found its 
home; — these, oh these, are some of the bitterest of 
earth's many disappointments. The infant dead ! — 
they pass from love, to love ; — from the bosom of their 
earthly, to that of their Heavenly Parent ; — from that 
love which is the only bliss of time, to that which is 
the rapture of heaven. And finally, death is the great 
tormentor of mankind, through fear of whom men are 
all their lives subject to bondage, and by whose grim 
shadow a fearfulness is made to surprise them in their 
most gladsome hours. But death has for these, no 
sting. The grave for these, is encompassed by no 
shadows. Eternity frowns upon these with no fore- 
tokenings of ill. 

Parents — art thou then full of tears, 

Because thy child is free 
From the earthly strifes, and human fears 

Oppressive even to thee 1 
No ! with the quiet dead, 

Baby, thy rest shall be ; 
Oh ! many a weary wight, 
Weary of life and light, 

Would fain lie down with thee. 

Considering, then, the present condition of human 
life — the character too generally acquired by those 
who are actors on its stage ; the peculiarly trying lot 
of all who will not be " of the world,"' but will " live 
above it :" that self-tormenting power of apprehending 
future calamity which reason gives us ; the many bitter 
trials of the heart which every one who trusts in man 
so continually experiences ; and the awful darkness 
which, thick as Erebus, sin has gathered round the 
dread hour of human dissolution ; — and can we not 
say, that the arrangement of Providence, by which one 
half the human family is cut off from the possible ex- 

6 



62 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

perience of these mortal ills, is a dispensation of mercy. 
This is our conclusion from the contemplation of hu- 
man life, not in its worst, but in its best aspect, not 
when tried with more than usual adversity, but in its 
ordinary state of mingled good and evil. We have 
only supposed them to meet that current which all 
must breast, and pointed to those shocks which all must 
encounter. How much stronger, then, would our infer- 
ence be, were we to make the supposition in regard to 
each individual child, that it was taken away from the 
evil to come, and plucked as a brand out of that fire 
of evil where it might have been salted with the fire 
of guilt, and eventually have perished. 

" O God, spare my child !" were the words of an af- 
fectionate and almost idolizing mother, as she bent over 
the side of her dying child. The little sufferer, uncon- 
scious of its situation, was in a burning fever. The 
sands of life were fast running out, and the darting 
pain seemed well nigh to rend the spirit from the body. 
The piteous moan pierced the heart of the fond mother, 
and drove her, as the last resort, to the throne of grace, 
where she poured out her soul in prayer that her dar- 
ling might be spared. 

Nor was the cry unheeded. She heard a voice, say- 
ing, " Child of earth ! since thou art unwilling to trust 
thine offspring's destiny in the hands of thy heavenly 
Father, thy prayer is answered. His fate is in thy 
hands. Whether he live or die, is for thee to decide." 

A momentary thrill of joy rushed through the mo- 
ther's heart, at these words ; but it was only momentary. 
She felt the reproof. " Alas !" she exclaimed, " how 
shall I decide the fate of my child ? Should he recover, 
perhaps he will prove a bitter curse to me hereafter, and 
he may bring down my grey hairs to the grave. But 
how can I see him die, when it is in my power to save 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 63 

his life ? O, that I had left his fate with him who gave 
him to me !" Filled with remorse for her unwise and 
undutiful conduct, she again betook herself to prayer, 
beseeching her heavenly Father to remove frem her so 
fearful a responsibility. 

Again her prayer was heard and answered : " O, rash 
child ! why didst thou repine at thy lot ? Couldst 
thou look into futurity, and behold thy child in the 
years of manhood ? Or couldst thine eye pierce the 
vale of eternity, and behold the scenes that await him 
there ? Why, then, didst thou not, like a confiding 
child, submit to the will of thy Father, knowing that 
he will do only that which is for thy good ? Thou hast 
prayed to be delivered from this responsibility; thy 
prayer is answered. Go, and learn from this never to 
repine at the allotments of Providence." 

The child died ; and as the mother took her last 
look, and then resigned him to the grave, she meekly 
adopted the language of one who had drank deep of 
the bitter cup of affliction, — " The Lord gave, and the 
Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the 
Lord." 

And now let us consider this dispensation as it affects 
infants eternally, and we shall find as indubitable evi- 
dence that it is grounded in mercy to them. 

Revelation is the only source of our knowledge of 
eternity. The ignorance and helplessness of human 
reason, and of all merely human research, we have al- 
ready exposed. To scan the ways of God, to fathom 
the depths of his judgments, or understand the mys- 
tery of his moral government— these are wholly impo- 
tent. They are no better than the magicians of Pha- 
raoh, or the astrologers of Belshazzar, humbled and 
confounded before the stupendous mysteries of heaven. 
It is then " to the law and to the testimony" we must 



64 SOLACE FOB BEREAVED PARENTS. 

look for any guidance in this high path of investiga- 
tion. And here must we call to mind the nature of 
that revelation, as intended not to make known the 
whole compass of God's divine proceedings, but only so 
much of his ways as are necessary for man, in his 
present temporary state. It is a lamp hung up mid- 
way between earth and heaven, to guide from the 
darkness of the one, to the glory of the other ; — it is 
not that heaven itself, in all the fulness of its splen- 
dours, or the extent of its administrations, brought 
down to the comprehension of man. 

To whom then does this revelation directly and spe- 
cially address itself? The answer will be found by 
considering its precepts, its duties, its ordinances, its 
threatenings, and its announcements of future retribu- 
tion. Its precepts address themselves to those who can 
understand ; — its duties are enjoined upon those who 
can obey ; — its ordinances are adapted to those who have 
knowledge to discern and improve them ; — its threaten- 
ings strike terror into hearts capable of despising 
them ; — and its future judgment is a day of destiny to 
all the workers of iniquity, to all the rejectors of mercy. 
It is then at once apparent, that the immediate and di- 
rect bearing of the annunciations of revelation is upon 
adults, and not upon infants. The Bible was written 
for adults, and the Gospel proclaimed to adults, though 
the blessings they announce are designed for all. The 
character, condition, and prospects of adults, and not 
of infants, form, therefore, the burden of revelation. 
Their condition, considered as living and dying, while 
merely infants, is not its subject matter. Infants are 
necessarily referred to, but only incidentally, as con- 
nected with the great business of this heavenly mes- 
sage. If then there is no distinct declaration in the 
Bible militating against the salvation of infants, when 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 65 

dying as such, that salvation we may regard as certain, 
since infants can never violate a precept, neglect a duty, 
despise an ordinance, provoke a threatening, or incur a 
judgment of this holy book. 

Inasmuch, then, as Revelation addresses itself dis- 
tinctly and immediately to those who are capable of 
understanding and obeying it ; — it is all important to 
inquire how far children, as such, are similar in their 
circumstances and relations, to those of mature years. 
They are similar, in their relation to Adam as the great 
representative of the human family, for " in Adam all 
die," and " death has come upon all men, even upon 
those who have not sinned after the similitude of 
Adam's transgression, because all have sinned." They 
are similar, inasmuch as they are like fully grown men, 
mortal. " It is appointed unto them" as well as unto all 
others " once to die." There is one event to the aged 
and to the young, to the child of a span long, and the 
man a hundred years old : — " they must lie down alike 
in the grave and the worms cover them." They are 
similar to men also, in that depravity of nature, which 
results from the withdrawment of those chartered ben- 
efits forfeited by Adam, as the representative of the hu- 
man family ; for " they are born in sin," and are " chil- 
dren of wrath," the "natural heart being enmity to 
God." They are, I again remark, similar to men in 
their helplessness ; in their entire inability to change 
their own nature, alter their own wills, or transform 
their own hearts into the image and likeness of God. 
They are similar also in their ignorance of the true 
God, of Jesus Christ whom he has sent, of the way of 
salvation, and of eternal life ; for " the natural heart 
understandeth not the things of God, neither can it do 
so, for they are spiritually discerned." They are sim- 
ilar, in their capacity for progressive improvement, being 



66 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

destined to an interminable being, with powers which 
are illimitable in their exercise. And they are similar, 
in their susceptibilities of happiness, these being always 
measured by the degree of their advancement. 

Such are the important points of similarity between 
infants and those in mature life. How far then will 
this similarity involve infants in the awful responsibili- 
ty and fearful hazards connected with such a condition 
of guilt, sinfulness and degradation ? That it would 
have been equitable in God, apart from the considera- 
tion of the plan of salvation, to include infants in the 
consequences of the fall, and to involve them in the 
common ruin of their entire species, we cannot, for a 
moment, doubt ; because we see, in fact, that they are 
so involved and made to experience the bitterness of its 
sad results, as far as this involves temporal suffering 
and death. But, in such a case, we may imagine that 
none would have died in mere infancy, but that all 
would have been permitted to grow up to a period of 
perfect moral agency, and to act out their own charac- 
ter of vile depravity ; and that all men would have 
been put under an equal lot, been allowed an equal op- 
portunity of receiving or rejecting the gospel, and had 
their fate determined under a perfectly equal adminis- 
tration. 

The Adamic constitution cannot, however, in fact or 
argument, be disconnected from the Messianic constitu- 
tion. The federal relation of the first Adam, cannot 
be severed from the federal relation of the second 
Adam. The one was introductory to the other ; — the 
one was supplementary to the other. The one was 
never designed to exist without the other, nor the 
evils consequent upon the one to be endured, without 
the more abounding blessings of the other. When 
God, from eternity, arranged the plan, by which Adam, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 67 

under the most favourable circumstances, should rep- 
resent his race, he devised also the plan by which 
the " Lord from heaven" should take the place of fall- 
en humanity, and represent it before eternal justice. 
"Wherefore as by one man sin entered into the 
world, and death by sin, death passed upon all men," for 
that all have sinned. Therefore, as by the offence of 
one, judgment came upon all men to condemnation ; 
even so by the righteousness of one the free gift came 
upon all men unto justification of life. For as by one 
man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the 
obedience of one shall many be made righteous." 

The question then to be determined is, not what 
would have become of infants, had they been left to 
meet all the consequences of their natural condition ;— 
not whether, being equally guilty and depraved and help- 
less, with full grown sinners, they were not equally de- 
serving of eternal separation from God ; nor whether such 
an infliction of the sentence pronounced on all, would 
have been righteous ; but it is whether now, under an- 
other constitution, even that of a mediator, the second 
Adam, who has entered into the guilty position and sus- 
tained the curse resting on the first, and upon all his pos- 
terity ; whether now, since redemption from that pri- 
mal curse, and cleansing from that original depravity, 
and entire deliverance from that native unworthiness, 
have been procured through the Almighty Saviour ; 
children are or are not, interested in these blessings, 
and partakers of them ? 

Now, just so far as scripture is silent upon this point, 
may we feel assured that it is so from the fact, that 
infants, dying such, come not under its proclamation of 
duty, and therefore are not referred to in its overtures 
of mercy, which are to be received or rejected, by vol- 
untary agents to whom alone they are addressed, JWo 



68 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

may be perfectly satisfied, since God has exercised in- 
finite mercy in providing salvation from the guilt and 
misery of the fall ; and since He has been pleased to 
remove one half of the entire human race at a time 
when they could not possibly enjoy through their per- 
sonal agency, any benefit from such merciful provision ; 
that having all died in Adam, they shall all, in Christ, 
he made alive ; and having by one man's disobedience 
been all constituted sinners, they shall through one 
man's obedience be all made righteous. And when in 
connexion with this we state, what is universally ad- 
mitted, that so far as scripture does cast its light upon 
the subject, it is the light of encouragement and hope, 
this conclusion amounts, we think, to a moral certainty. 
For, on what other principle can we have any conceiv- 
able explanation of that dispensation of Providence, by 
which one entire half of all earth's inhabitants are swept 
from this state of condemnation and of hope, before they 
can open their mind to the comprehension either of 
their fall in Adam, or their recovery in Christ ? Were 
they not at once removed, before they become person- 
ally guilty, that they might certainly enjoy the bless- 
ings of salvation— would not God have permitted all 
to reach a period of maturity, and thus, in their own 
person, receive or reject his mercy, and be pronounced 
worthy or unworthy of an inheritance among the saints 
in light ? 

And what does scripture intimate on this subject? 
We have said that infants, like full grown men, are mor- 
tal, and that death comes upon them, inasmuch as they 
have sinned in Adam. Now, the Bible declares, 
that they shall be partakers of that resurrection which 
is the fruit of Christ's death, and through which death 
itself shall be abolished, and the grave despoiled of its 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 69 

victims.* We have said that infants stand equally re- 
lated to Adam and his consequent fall, guilt, and ruin, 
with those who are adult. But in the gospel we are 
taught, that great as was that fall, greater is this re- 
demption ; that extensive as were the ravages of the 
one, much more multiplied are the blessings of the 
other ; and that great reason as we have to mourn over 
the one, infintely greater may all have, to rejoice in the 
other. For as in Adam all died, so in Christ might all 
have been made alive. " Not as the offence, so also 
is the free gift, for the judgment was by one (offence) 
to condemnation, but the free gift is of many offences 
unto justification." This free gift is offered for the re- 
ception, and is, in its own nature and sufficiency, ade- 
quate to the justification, of all men. And since, it is 
by their unbelief and rejection of this gift, that the 
wrath of God will come, unimpeded, upon guilty and 
ungrateful men, infants being incapable of rejecting it, 
are not, w r e may hope, " condemned with the world. 7 ' 

" Christ took upon him our nature, to sanctify and 
to save it, and passed through the several periods of it, 
even unto death, which is the symbol and effect of old 
age : and, therefore, it is certain he did sanctify all the 
periods of it : and why should he be an infant, but that 
infants should receive the crown of their age, the purifica- 
tion of their stained nature, the sanctification of their 
person, and the saving of their souls, by their Infant 
Lord and Elder Brother ?" 

If the heathen, who are " without the knowledge of 
the law, shall be judged without the law," or on prin- 
ciples different from those applied to such as " enjoy the 
law ;" surely infants, who die previous to their possible 

* On this part of the subject, see RusselPs Essay on Infant Salva- 
tion, chapter 3, 



TO SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS* 

knowledge of the gospel, shall not have its application to 
them measured by the rules of personal accountability ? 
Having never " sinned after the similitude of Adam's 
transgression," they will not be saved after the si- 
militude of those of Adam's full grown posterity, who 
have thus sinned. All objections to this conclusion 
arising from the incapacity of infants for salvation, are 
entirely presumptuous, since Christ has assured us that 
" of such," even infants in the arms, " is the kingdom 
of heaven." Now, as God is no respecter of persons, 
and as all children are his moral offspring, and all are 
equally guilty ; and equally incapable, by any possibil- 
ity, of seeking deliverance from sin ; we must conclude 
that all children, dying in infancy, are saved with an 
everlasting salvation through the abounding grace of 
Christ Jesus, our Lord. 

"It appears," says Dr. Russell, " that the original con- 
stitution and that which is now established through 
Christ, are thus far co-extensive, that the direct penal 
effects of the sin of Adam, separately considered, are 
so far removed, that none shall be finally condemned, 
merely for his one offence, or without having person- 
ally transgressed, and thereby, actually concurred in 
that sin, by their approval and imitation of it. This is 
confirmed by the consideration that, when speaking of 
the condemnation even of such as are " without law," 
the apostle limits this doom to such as actually have 
sinned. He refers to such as have sinned against 
light, sufficient to render them " without excuse ;" and 
who, of course, are actual transgressors. Rom. i. 19 — 
32 ; and ii. 12. This declaration, respecting the 
ground of the condemnation, of such as were without 
law, ought to be considered in connexion with the rea- 
soning in chap, v., which must be consistent with it in 
all its parts. And as the ground of condemnation now 



80LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 71 

in question, cannot apply to infants, the reasoning re- 
specting it, so far from militating against the salvation 
of such, serves to establish it, because it supposes the 
abuse of at least a measure of light, and the imitation 
of the sin of Adam by actual transgression. If such, 
as is evident, be the declared ground of the condemna- 
tion of adults, and if not a word is said of any ground 
on which children dying in infancy shall be finally 
condemned, does it not follow, that all of them are 
saved ? This conclusion is completely confirmed by its 
full accordance with the principle, that, as the resurrec- 
tion of the body is the result of the advent and admin- 
istration of Christ, it is of course connected, as we have 
seen, in the case of deceased infants, with deliverance 
from the ichole result of the original curse. 

" It is obviously taught by the apostle, that the glory 
of the work of Christ is more illustriously displayed in 
overcoming the accumulated effects of the many per- 
sonal offences of actual transgressors, than in simply 
overcoming those of the single offence of Adam, and 
this accounts for his passing from the latter display of 
glory to the former. He takes for granted, the redemp- 
tion of those who had " not sinned after the similitude 
of Adam's transgression," when reasoning on the tran- 
scendent grandeur of the plan of mercy, as embracing 
the remission of " the many offences" of actual trans- 
gressors. On the full glory of the plan, as thus most 
impressively exhibited, he delighted to dwell, and what 
he says of the circumstances of infants, is introduced 
chiefly for the sake of illustrating this higher manifes- 
tation of " the exceeding riches" of divine grace. In 
arguing for the greater, he takes for granted, the less. 
He cannot but be considered as teaching us, that the 
scheme of redemption shields from the penal conse- 
quences of Adam's sin, separately viewed; or where 



72 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

they are not connected with actual sin and final impen- 
itence, seeing he maintains that its object extends, not 
to this only, but much farther. 

" When he reasons, that if the forfeiture was incurred 
by one offence, we have much more reason to expect 
that the blessings of redemption will be communicated 
on the principle of representation, or through the work 
of Christ as a public head, and that those blessings shall 
far exceed the damage sustained by the fall of the first 
Adam, his reasoning proceeds on the principle that God 
delighteth in mercy, and is slow to anger, and reluctant 
to execute judgment. It also supposes that justice, in 
the infliction of punishment, is limited to desert, while 
grace, when not obstructed in its exercise by the claims 
of offended righteousness, can be imparted in the most 
unlimited abundance, according to the good pleasure of 
the divine will. It seems, then, necessarily to follow, 
that, under the present dispensation, no exclusion oc- 
curs, where nothing additional to the sin of Adam has 
taken place, since all obstructions in the way of the 
honourable exercise of mercy, and grace, have been 
completely removed, by the infinitely precious sacrifice 
of Christ. This conclusion is but the natural result of 
the foregoing premises, and it, of course, involves the 
salvation of all who have not been guilty of actual 
transgression. 

" It may here be farther remarked, that the concern 
of infants, in the sin of Adam, is of a relative nature, 
and, therefore, cannot be divided among them, so as 
that one may have this share of it, and another that ; 
as in the case, when a number have shared in the 
doing of a thing for the whole of relative blame must 
attach to every individual of the parties concerned in 
it. Now it will be granted, that the guilt of this sin 
was expiated by Christ ; for, otherwise, Adam could 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PAREIVj 73 

never have been saved, and not a single infant could 
have been delivered from its effects on his posterity ; 
so that, according to this principle, the universal per- 
dition of infants must be maintained ; a thing which, 
none will admit as possible/" 5 

It is true, infants are by nature as depraved as those 
of riper years, though not as actually guilty ; but it is 
also true, that the spirit of God can as easily and as 
effectually wash and sanctify and justify them ; and 
since He does assuredly prepare many infants for the 
kingdom of Heaven, He can as easily prepare all. 

'• Respecting the time when God may be pleased to 
change their hearts by his Spirit," says Dr. Russell, 
" whether before or at the time of their dissolution, it 
does not seem to be of great importance to inquire. 
He who imparted his moral likeness to Adam, immedi- 
ately at his creation, and gave his- Holy Spirit to John, 
while in his mother's womb, ought not to be limited. 
If the first Adam had continued obedient, would not his 
children have been born in a state of holiness, or with 
a principle predisposing to holy exercises, as soon as the 
faculties of the mind were so developed as to fit for 
moral agency ? And if so, why may not the Spirit of 
God so influence the heart of a child, as to produce a 
similar predisposition there ? If, as we have seen, the 
germ of sin be in infants from the beginning, though 
not developed in actual transgressions, why may not 
the germ of holiness be implanted by the Divine Spirit 
on earth, though its developments in the case of infants 
can be witnessed only in heaven ? The most eminent 
of our older evangelical writers distinguish between 
the principle and the exercise of grace, and maintain 
that the former may exist in children while as yet 
incapable of the latter.* We cannot say what may be 

* Owen on the Spirit, vol. ii. 253, 4.13. 

7 



74 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

the mode of the Divine operations, in regard to such, 
and no practical benefit could we derive from the 
knowledge of it. The Almighty can doubtless instan- 
taneously raise from infantile weakness and ignorance, 
to the perfection of heavenly light and holy purity. 
This will afford a display of the Divine power, which 
will be deeply impressive. Christians who have long 
known the truth upon earth, though through a glass 
darkly, understand something of the celestial glory, 
before they enter on it, but what must be the feelings 
of infants, on being suddenly translated to the full 
radiance of the heavenly inheritance, and what the 
feelings of others on witnessing this striking display of 
Almighty power ? 

" What prevents the full renovation of Christians on 
earth, but the weakness and unsettledness of their faith 
in the gospel, and wilj. not the full blaze of its lustre at 
once assimilate the whole soul to itself? < The germ 
of life and of glory,' which was here implanted in the 
infant mind, will burst forth instantaneously into a 
full ahd vigorous life, and the heart will be impressed 
with the beauty and grandeur of the character of God, 
and capacitated for the services and the bliss of the ce- 
lestial sanctuary. 

" And when we remember, how God taught the 
children of Jerusalem, to offer up their artless hosannas 
in the temple, how their praises were accepted of the 
Saviour, and how they seem to have relieved and 
gladdened the mind of the Man of sorrows, as he 
thought of the obstinate unbelief, and impending fate 
of that city over which he mournfully wept, we cannot 
but recommend them to God, in the confidence that 
his power and his goodness are always the same. 
Knowing, as we do, that our Lord was much attached 
to children when he was on earth, and seeing such im- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 75 

mense numbers of them cut off by death ; are not we 
warranted to say that he is now by his providence, 
repeating from heaven what he said when in our 
world, l Suffer little children to come unto me, for of 
such is the kingdom of God.' " 

It is also true that infants are as helplessly impotent 
to good as are adults ; but they are not more so, and 
spiritual good cometh not by human might, nor human 
power, but by the spirit of God. True, they are equally, 
with grown persons, ignorant of God and holiness ; but 
they are also as susceptible of heavenly guidance : and 
after all, the difference between the most perfect, and 
the lowest, attainments in human knowledge, and 
those which are acquired in heaven, is insignificantly 
small. It is true, also, that infants are as capable of 
progressive improvement, and as susceptible of happi- 
ness, as those of the most giant powers ; and a brief 
schooling under the teachings of the upper sanctuary, 
will, therefore, put them far in advance of the most 
exalted earthly genius. 

When, in addition to what has been now advanced, 
we remember the peculiar interest which God has ever 
manifested in infants ; — when we remember how he 
has distinctly called them his " innocents," his " poor 
innocents," and has thus, it would appear, declared that, 
under his present dispensation, they are held no longer, 
as such, (that is, when their period of probation closes 
in infancy,) accountable for their guilt in Adam; — ■ 
when we remember, in the manifestation which God 
made of himself in the flesh, how marvellously he was 
drawn out in his affectionate regard to infants, and 
how emphatically he declared them to be a great 
component part of the kingdom of heaven;* — when 

* " The expression, ' Of such is the kingdom of God/ means, then, 
that \ of such it is in a great measure made up,' because they will form 



76 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED BARENTS. 

we remember, that it is out of their mouths, God is to 
perfect his praise ; that their hosannas will be sweetest 
in the loud song of heavenly praise ; and their angels 
be nearest to the bright vision of the face of unveiled 
Deity ; — and when, in the actual demonstration of the 
purposes of God, we find him carrying home to his bo- 
som, while in this state of happy innocency, one half 
of his human family ; — are we not, beyond all contro- 
versy, assured that the infant dead are ransomed from 
all the pains and perils of this mortal strife, that they 
may be at once admitted to that kingdom " prepared" 
for them, and for all the elect family of heaven, " from 
the foundation of the world," 

Calm on the bosom of thy God, 

Young spirits ! rest thee now ! 
Even while with us thy footsteps trod. 

His seal was on thy brow. 

I have thus very briefly adverted to the numerous 
grounds upon which a belief in the salvation of infants 
may be founded. A full discussion of them, with an 

a very great proportion of the redeemed family of Heaven. The Sa- 
viour appears to have had the universal salvation of all of them who 
die in infancy in his view. His reasoning is not, * of persons resem- 
bling such in temper and disposition is the kingdom made up, for this, as 
has already been hinted, would not warrant the conclusion drawn, 
namely, that children ought not to be hindered from being brought to 
Him, in order to be blessed, for on the same principle he might have 
said, ' Suffer doves and lambs to be brought unto me to be blessed, for 
of persons resembling such is the kingdom of God made up.' Now, 
this would prove too much ; consequently it proves nothing. His words, 
then, must respect children literally ; and his blessing such ensures their 
salvation. It is to no purpose to deny this conclusion by saying, that 
though our Lord wept over Jerusalem, yet, Jerusalem fell, for there is a 
wide and an essential difference between a lamentation over the obsti- 
nacy of active rebels, and a benediction poured upon infants, between a 
warning of impending danger, and an assurance, that * of such is the 
kingdom of Heaven.' Nor can the words be construed to respect only 
the particular children then brought to Him, or any particular class of 
children exclusively, for the expression, * of such,' is comprehensive of 
all who never get beyond the condition of infancy." — Dr. Russell. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 77 

answer to all difficulties involved in the subject, has 
been given by Dr. Russell, and the following abridg- 
ment of his views, by Dr. Cumming, of the Scotch 
Church, London, though it may in part cover the 
ground we have surveyed, may be useful and interest- 
ing.* 

" It will be admitted by all that the bodies of infants 
will be raised at the resurrection morn. The language 
of Scripture is explicit — ' I saw the dead, small and 
great/ (that is, infants and adults) l stand before 
God ;' ' and the sea gave up the dead which were in it, 
and death and hell delivered up the dead which w r ere in 
them ;' and l all that are in the graves shall hear the 
voice of the Son of Man, and shall come forth.' We 
must include in this mighty assemblage numbers of 
infants as well as adults. To this the apostle seems to 
allude, when he says, every one shall be raised ( in his 
own order.' The literal translation is, ' in .his own 
class ;' infants in their class, adults in their class, males 
in their class, females in their class — l every one in his 
own order.' Now, if the bodies of infants are to be 
raised, we may fairly inquire, what can be the purpose 
of thus raising their sleeping dust from its resting- 
places, and reuniting each infant soul to its body ? It 
cannot be to be judged ; for the judgment proceeds ac- 
cording to works done in the body, and infants have 
done no works. In every record of the judgment 
morn, the statement is, that it proceeds, not according 
to the merit of works, (far from that,) but according to 
works as the manifestation of a principle of grace with- 
in. Infants, having had neither the opportunity nor 
the physical power of manifesting character by con- 
duct, cannot be raised to be judged, as they are not just 

* From a Discourse on Infant Salvation.^ LoncU 

7* "*" 



78 . SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

subjects of the judgment ordeal. In the next place, 
infants cannot be raised to be condemned to everlasting 
punishment. Why ? Because this is not a part of 
the original curse that was pronounced upon Adam. 
The curse pronounced upon Adam was, ' Thou shalt 
surely die :' that is, the soul shall die, and the body 
shall die ; and when the one is severed from the other, 
the penalty is exhausted. The punishment apportion- 
ed to them that have either rejected the overtures of 
the glorious gospel, or stained their souls with sin and 
their hands with wickedness, can never be due to in- 
fants. They can be the subjects of the primitive curse 
only. But to raise their bodies again, and to reunite 
them to their souls in order to suffer, would be unjust, 
because it would be apportioning greater punishment 
than the original sentence contained. It would be the 
infliction of a doom severer than God pronounced in 
Paradise. God's truth never errs, in excess or short- 
coming. Therefore, when infants are raised from the 
dead, they are raised not to be judged, for there are 
no works, according to which they can be judged ; 
they are raised not to suffer, because this would be un- 
just, and exceeding the original sentence. What must, 
then, be the end ? They are raised in order to be ad- 
mitted into glory ; that, reclothed with more glorious 
apparel than Adam lost, they may take their place in 
the midst of those, who have l washed their robes and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb.' 

u But this presumption amounts almost to certainty, 
if we bear in mind, that if infants' bodies are raised 
from the dead, then is there in this fact the actual re- 
moval of half the primeval curse ; for its penalty was 
the death of soul and body, both. Now if we find it 
to be the fact that the body is raised, which is the re- 
moval of half the curse, may we not, in full harmony 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 79 

with the presumptions of reason, and above all in full 
coincidence with the merciful genius of the gospel, in- 
fer that the other half of the curse is remitted also — 
that the soul and body shall be reunited, both togeth- 
er to inherit everlasting happiness ? 

" We are also to connect with this fact the truth, 
that this resurrection of their bodies is the fruit of the 
atonement and resurrection of Christ — because if 
Christ had not died and risen again, there had been no 
resurrection ; the very resurrection of the body is the 
result of the atonement of Christ, and in that sense it 
extends to every man. Now if infants' bodies are 
raised from the dead, and this only through Christ's res- 
urrection, and as the result of His perfect atonement, 
and if thus half the curse is remitted by the efficacy 
of the Saviour's blood, and by the virtues of His resur- 
rection from the dead, may we not infer that the other 
half will be remitted also, and that soul and body will 
live and rejoice together in the presence of the Lord 
for ever ? 

" With respect to those who are born amid the means 
of grace and opportunities of mercy, there is one only 
cause given in the gospel for their condemnation, viz., 
their wilful rejection of the gospel. ' This is the con- 
demnation, that light is come into the world, and men 
love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are 
evil.' ' He that believeth not the Son shall not see life, 
but the wrath of God abide th on him/ And again, 
' Ye will not come to me that ye may have life.' If, 
then, this be the great condemning sin, which consigns 
sinners to misery, it is clear that infants never commit- 
ted that sin, because physically and morally incapable 
of it ; and therefore infants, having not committed the 
only condemning sin, cannot and will not be ranked 
amid the condemned hereafter. 

i 



80 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

9 

" Nor will it alter the conclusion if it be alleged that 
infants will be tried by the standard according to which 
the destinies of the heathen, who never heard the gos- 
pel, will be decided. The great apostle of the Gentiles 
says, ' When the Gentiles, which have not the law, do 
by nature the things contained in the law, these, 
having not the law, are a law unto themselves, 
their thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else ex- 
cusing one another.' We have only to weigh the 
import of this phraseology to see its total inapplicabil- 
ity to infants. They can be accused neither of re- 
jecting the gospel nor of violating the law. If grace 
cannot save them, which is not the case, we may be 
sure that works cannot condemn them. Moral inabili- 
ty is sin. Physical inability is misfortune. Let it not 
be supposed that I deny the doctrine of original sin. 
This would be to deny fact and dispute scripture. 
But this I am fully persuaded of — that none will 
be condemned for its taint only — -Satan's purposes of 
ruin and of wreck shall not be fulfilled. Nay, every 
picture we have of the place of misery implies, I think, 
that infants are incapable of being lost. This is a 
strong assertion, but it is a perfectly correct one. What 
is the scripture picture of hell ? It is men who have 
1 sown to the flesh,' ' reaping corruption ;' it is men 
who have sown iniquity, reaping punishment. It is 
{ the worm that never dieth' — an accusing conscience, 
the fell agony of ceaseless remorse — the remembrance 
of rejected grace — of abused mercies— of rebellion 
against God, and of wrestling against conscience. 
These constitute < the worm that dieth not ;' these 
make up and feed the flame of that c fire that is not 
quenched.' But an infant is totally incapable of those 
poignant sufferings— those stings and agonies of re- 
morse, because an infant never committed a single trans- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 8l 

gression. And therefore, as these feelings of remoirse 
are the main elements of hell, and as infants are by 
their very nature destitute of hell's chief element, they 
are incapable of suffering hell's dread punishment, as 
far, at least, as the nature of that punishment can be 
ascertained from the pages of the inspired volume. 

" It may be objected here, that throughout the scrip- 
tures, salvation is invariably tied to faith. Unquestion- 
ably it is so ; but it is of necessity with reference to 
them only who are capable of exercising faith. To re- 
quire faith in infants, is to require a physical impossibil- 
ity, and if faith, the instrument of salvation, is the free 
gift of God in the case of every adult, we may fairly pre- 
sume that in the case of infants, where there is no ability 
to appreciate its nature or its object, God will bestow 
the end without it, and implant the principle of a living 
and everlasting faith. He can work with, or without, or 
against means, when his own high purposes demand it. 

" It would appear that one leading object contemplated 
by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, is the destruc- 
tion and depression of Satan, and that, too, by a de- 
monstration that not one particle of his malignant policy 
and prospects has been, or will be secured. 

" Now it does seem, if infants are not universally sa- 
ved, that Satan hath got nearly as much as he hoped to 
achieve of triumph over God. It is evident that Satan's 
policy, when he seduced Adam and Eve, was meant, 
either, on the one Jiand, to force God to destroy this 
world, in which His smiles gave beauty to every blos- 
som, and His breath gave fragrance to every flower, and 
all of which He himself had pronounced to be ' very 
good,' or, on the other hand, to lead God to pronounce 
one universal and indiscriminate amnesty upon every 
creature that had transgressed, — thereby unhinging 
His moral government, conniving at crime, and com- 



82 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

promising the claims of holiness and truth. His policy 
was, to drive God either to destroy this beautiful world 
and its rational offspring, as baulked and disappointed, 
or, when the creature sinned, to pardon the creature at 
once, and thus dissolve the fixed and unchangeable 
connexion between sin and suffering, between iniquity 
and death. These were the two extremes, either of 
which Satan made sure of achieving ; but the atone- 
ment is the unexpected solution of the difficulty, — the 
great cause of the lesson being inscribed in heaven, and 
legible on earth at the moment that the chiefest of sin- 
ners are saved — ' The wages of sin is death, but the gift 
of God is eternal life.' But if infants are lost, they are 
lost because of their connection with the first Adam, 
and therefore in that respect Satan has triumphed; 
nay, if this be true, half the human race by Satan's 
policy, and without their personal guilt, are lost. 

" Infants, however, are not lost. We know that 
none shall perish, but those that reject the cure; none 
shall inherit the serpent's curse, except those that im- 
bibe the serpent's spirit. And on the other hand, those 
who are saved, it is declared expressly in scripture, are 
saved only through the mediation of Jesus, by reason 
of the transcendant goodness, that gave Christ to die 
for the sins of mankind, and therefore by a way of 
salvation, which does not tarnish the glory of God. 
Neither shall man be lost, nor the world destroyed, nor 
God dishonoured by the policy of Satan. The reverse 
shall be the triumphant issue. We justly infer, that 
the sum total of this dispensation will be, that not one 
soul shall be lost because of Satan's success in Paradise, 
but that on the contrary, his apparent triumph shall 
be overruled by Infinite Wisdom to be the means of 
bringing many sons to a greater happiness, and of giv- 
ing greater glory to God. They that perish, perish by 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 83 

their rejection of life, not by their inheritance of 
Adam's sin. Not Satan's success, but their own suici- 
dal resistance of truth necessitates their doom. Satan's 
kingdom is destroyed and Satan's expectations crushed 
by the nature of the gospel ; and it thereby comes to 
pass, that, if infants be universally saved through 
grace, there will be left to Satan not one single frag- 
ment or wreck, which he can quote as a proof of the 
success of his stratagems, and a fruit of his wickedness 
in the garden of Eden. 

"Thus his head will be crushed — thus the very vic- 
tims he hoped to retain as symbols of his might are 
snatched from his fangs, and enrolled in the Lamb's 
book of life as heirs of happiness : and those who sink 
into the abyss in which ' life dies, and death lives,' 
will be there, not murdered by Satan, but suicides — 
not proofs of the power of his will, but the exponents 
of the infatuation of their own hearts. 

" In the eighth Psalm we have an express scriptural 
proof of the salvation of infants, and an unequivocal 
intimation that amid the multitudes that grace the tri- 
umphs of the Son of God, infants will not be wanting 
— '- O Lord our Lord, how excellent is Thy name in 
all the earth ! who hast set Thy glory above the heav- 
ens. Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast 
Thou ordained strength, because of Thine enemies, 
that Thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.' 
Now the apostle Paul, in reasoning upon this very 
Psalm in his epistle to the Hebrews, quotes it as de- 
scriptive of Christ in the days of His final triumph. It 
is in the second chapter. ' But one in a certain place 
testified, saying, What is man, that Thou art mindful 
of him ? or the son of man, that Thou visitest him ? 
Thou madest him a little lower than the angels ; Thou 
crownedst him with glory and honour, and didst set 



84 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

him over the works of Thy hands ; Thou hast put all 
things in subjection under his feet. For in that He 
put all in subjection under him, He left nothing that 
is not put under him. But now we see not yet all 
things put under him. But we see Jesus, who was 
made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of 
death, crowned with glory and honour ; that he by the 
grace of God should taste death for every man.' — The 
sacred penman states that the Psalm refers to that 
period when Christ shall reign from sea to sea — all re- 
bellious elements being laid prostrate, and creation 
clothed afresh with holiness, and beauty, and bliss. 
Amid the anthem-peal of praise that rises up to Him 
from the redeemed earth, the psalmist hears the songs 
of infants as no weak tone in the rich diapason, as as- 
criptions to the Lamb l out of the mouth of babes and 
sucklings.' Yes, the beautiful truth stands forth in 
all its lustre, deep and consolatory, that the sweetest 
hymns which shall be heard in the millennial era, will 
be infant hymns ; that amid the songs that rise before 
the throne, will be melodies that are warbled bv infant 
orphans' tongues, and that gush forth from full infant 
hearts. The unspeakably precious truth comes home 
from this to every parent, that, if a saint of God, he 
shall join in the songs of heaven with his departed in- 
fants, who have already caught the key-note. 

" In the twentieth chapter of the Apocalypse we have 
an outline of the proceedings of the judgment-day, 
w T hich bears somewhat on this topic : c I saw the dead, 
small and great, stand before God ; and the books (the 
plural number) were opened.' There are two books 
symbolically referred to in Scripture : the book in which 
are the names and deeds of the unbelieving, and the 
book in which are the names and deeds of the children 
of God, Now after these two books were opened, we 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 85 

read — c And another book was opened, which is the 
book of life.' We connect this with the eleventh of 
Revelation — ' And the nations were angry, and Thy 
wrath is come, and the time of the dead that they 
should be judged, and that Thou shouldest give reward 
unto Thy servants the prophets, and unto the saints 
and them that fear Thy name, small and great? 
At the production of these three books, infants are 
present, and therefore we may presume that the two 
books contain the deeds of the evil, and the deeds of 
the good ; but that the third book, which is ' the 
Lamb's book of life,' is that in which the names of the 
lambs of the flock are written, and which I believe is 
the memorial and record of those who barely lived be- 
fore they died, who scarcely breathed th$ air of time 
before they were transferred to breathe the sweeter and 
the balmier atmosphere of eternity. 

" We cannot conceive what other record that can be 
which is the Lamb's Book of Life. On its tablets the 
names of our infants now in glory are inscribed. 
Theirs is a peculiar case, and theirs, therefore, a specific 
but glorious record. Each name is illuminated with 
everlasting splendour, while each possessor is bathed in 
that flood which is ' fulness of joy for evermore.' 

" On no other ground, we may also observe, than on 
that of the universal safety of deceased infants, can we 
account for the vast multitudes declared to be ultimate- 
ly saved. The various expressions used in Scripture 
respecting the final salvation of men, unquestionably 
imply that a very great number will be eternally saved. 
c After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, 
which no man could number, of all nations, and kin- 
dreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, 
and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and 
palms in their hands ; and cried with a loud voice, say- 

8 



86 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

ing, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the 
throne, and unto the Lamb.' ' A great multitude 
which no man can number' is the characteristic of the 
finally saved ; showing that it is not a minority, but a 
majority that shall ultimately be admitted to glory. 
Christ, in numbers, as in glory, shall have the pre-emi- 
nence. In the nineteenth of Revelation, again, we read, 
1 And I heard as it were the voice of a great multi- 
tude, and as the voice of many waters :' another ex- 
pression denoting the vast number of the saved. 
Again : Christ is to ' bring many sons unto glory.' 
And again : ' Christ was once offered, to bear the sins 
of many? And again : l As by one man's disobedi- 
ence many were made sinners, so by the obedience of 
one shall many be made righteous.' 

" This is a sweet and majestic thought. The great 
multitude will not be lost. The prospect dilates the 
heart of philanthropy, and comes home to us clothed 
with the attributes and glories of God. They wrong 
our faith who call it narrow. They wrong its foun- 
tain also. The myriads shall mount to glory. Minor- 
ities only will sink to hell, and this not because there is 
not room or welcome in heaven. 

" There are texts expressly asserting the safety of 
dead infants. There is one passage descriptive of 
David's feelings on the loss of his infant, which, with 
its context, we quote. l And the Lord struck the child 
that Uriah's wife bare unto David, and it was very 
sick. David, therefore, besought God for the child, 
and David fasted, and went in and lay all night upon 
the earth. And the elders of his house arose, and went 
to him, to raise him up from the earth, but he would 
not, neither did he eat bread with them. And it came 
to pass on the seventh day that the child died. And 
the servants of David feared to tell him that the child. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 87 

was dead, for they said, Behold, while the child was 
yet alive, we spake unto him, and he would not heark- 
en unto our voice, how will he then vex himself, if we 
tell him that the child is dead. But when David saw 
that his servants whispered, David perceived that the 
child was dead : therefore David said unto his servants, 
Is the child dead ? And they said, He is dead. Then 
David arose from the earth, and washed and anointed 
himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the 
house of the Lord, and worshipped : then he came to his 
own house, and when he required, they set bread before 
him, and he did eat. Then said his servants unto 
him, What thing is this that thou hast done ? thou 
didst fast and weep for the child while it was alive, but 
when the child was dead, thou didst rise and eat bread. 
And he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted 
and wept : for I said, Who can tell whether God will 
be gracious to me, that the child may live ? But now 
he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him 
back again? I shall go to him, but he shall 

NOT RETURN TO ME.' 2 &m. XU. 15 23. 

" If ever there was a case where the infant might be 
expected to suffer hereafter for the father's sin, it was 
that of David in this passage. Yet David's convic- 
tion of his own sin, expressed so poignantly in the fifty- 
first Psalm, and anxiety about his own spiritual safety, 
did not cloud his assurance of the safety of this babe. 
He hoped to meet him in that purer and better land 
whither he had gone before him." 

But this will suffice ; although there are still remain- 
ing several considerations which strengthen our conclu- 
sions, I will only present from the same author a brief 
reference to some objections.* 

• See these fully an&wered by Dr. Bwi8e& 



88 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

" It has been objected, for instance; that facts prove 
that children are involved in the punishment that has 
been executed on their parents. At the flood, for in- 
stance, when the world was destroyed, it is an un- 
doubted fact that millions of infants must have per- 
ished. In the burning of Sodom and Gomorrah, many 
infants must have been consumed. Then, says the 
objector, reasoning from analogy, as we see that infants 
do suffer because of their parents' transgressions in 
time, we cannot but consistently infer that infants will 
suffer for their parents" transgressions in eternity. Our 
reply is : there is no proportion whatever between suf- 
fering temporally and suffering eternally ; these states 
of suffering also differ not ^mly in degree but also in 
character, and because the one takes place, it is no fair 
or legitimate inference that the other must take place 
also. Such visitations in time may be essential though 
disguised goodness ; in eternity they could be wrath 
only. If it be a truth, (as we have asserted, and shall 
endeavour to prove,) that all infants dying in infancy 
are saved, then the destruction of the infants of the an- 
tediluvian world was not wrath but mercy ; not cruelty 
but kindness. It was light affliction for a moment 
working out a far more exceeding, even an eternal 
weight of glory — the wave that overwhelmed the cas- 
ket bore the jewel upon its bosom to the presence of the 
Redeemer. It was the translation of their spirits from 
a world dismantled by the flood, and over which they 
would have looked and wept and wandered many- 
yeared and miserable pilgrims, to a world where there 
are— 

£ No griefs to feel, no fears to beat away ; 
The past unsigh'd for, and the present sure.' 

It was really harvest treading on the skirts of spring? 
and glory anticipating grace, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 89 

u It has been asserted that this doctrine must necessa- 
rily prove that there is no such doctrine as election — 
for if there be such a doctrine, we cannot but presume 
that some of half the human race who die in infancy- 
are elect, and that others are non-elect. We reply, that 
whatever be the meaning or the mystery of the doc- 
trine of election, it has nothing whatever to do with 
this question. If it has, then we may fairly confirm 
our doctrine from its nature, and maintain that all chil- 
dren who die in infancy are elect children ; that they 
are not the punished**and proscribed, but the peculiar 
favourites of God, the predestined subjects of glory, to 
whom He has manifested, without works and without 
merit, the riches of his grace, remitting the largest pro- 
portion of even the temporal ccnsequences of the pri- 
meval curse, and receiving them to the enjoyment of the 
blessing ere they have even known what it is to earn 
their bread by the sweat of their brow. In their case 
election may have its richest development. Thus the 
very doctrine from which many recoil, may have one 
aspect at least which every one must hail, and, what 
seems in my judgment an unfounded notion, that it is 
a doctrine wrapt in terror and fraught with wrath, may, 
after all, be one of the brightest revelations, instinct 
with the essence of heavenly love, and significant of 
unutterable glory. 

" It has been objected, also, that the number of the 
saved is represented in scripture always as small, in 
comparison with the number of the lost. For instance ; 
{ Many are called, but few are chosen, 7 and, therefore, 
that so great a proportion of the human race should be 
eventually saved is extremely improbable. The text 
referred to is applicable exclusively to adults, and by no 
possible stretch of language to infants. Infants cannot 
be c called,' because they are incapable of listening or 



90 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

yielding obedience to a call, and therefore of rejecting 
it. Adults only are capable of this ; they alone are the 
1 called, 5 and of them, it is true, the few are chosen. 
It is a truth as painful to the heart as it is palpable to the 
eye, that of adults the great majority live far from God, 
'strangers to the covenant of promise.' If we quote Lon- 
don, for instance, the metropolis of the world, we find that 
perhaps 600,000, or probably nearer a million, out of its 
two millions, never enter a place of worship at all ; and of. 
those who do enter places of worship, how few are there, 
whose hearts are really savingly touched, whose souls 
are truly renewed, who have felt the Gospel not merely 
in its letter, but in its power, — not only as a word, but 
as the wisdom and power of God ! This we do not 
deny ; but we are not to forget, that, whilst scripture 
represents the number of adults that now reject the 
Gospel as still many, the same scripture represents the 
sum total of the saved by the gospel, at the winding up 
of its solemn dispensation, as very numerous. Its lan- 
guage is that of < a multitude no man can number.' 
It was promised, that Abraham's seed (that is, Chris- 
tians,) should be ' like the stars of heaven for multi- 
tude ;'— that they should be upon the earth as the dew- 
drops oi the morning ; that they should be like the 
sands upon the sea-shore. And, therefore, while it 
seems true that a majority of adults are lost in the pres- 
ent day, and under the present dispensation, it is still 
not true (and this is a delightful fact) that the majority 
of the human race as a whole will be ultimately lost. 
If half the human race die in infancy, and if infants 
are universally saved, then the glorious result evolves, 
amid feelings of joy and holy gratitude to every heart, 
that the great majority of the human race shall be 
saved ; and that instead of a small number only event- 
ually reaching glory, ' a great multitude, whom no man 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 9l 

can number, 5 shall stand before the throne with palms 
in their hands, kings and conquerors and priests, 
through Him that loved them and washed them in his 
blood, and redeemed them out of every kindred and 
people and tongue. 

" We purposely abstain from even mentioning many 
other objections. A fertile fancy and a repugnance to 
a truth may invent innumerable objections. Abuses, 
also, may be appended to it, but for these it is not an- 
swerable. Use is God's destiny of things ; abuse is the 
perversion of man. Heaven's best blessings have been 
perverted. Evil men can turn any mercy into means of 
evil. It is one of the effects of sin, that man has in 
every instance the secret of that awful chemistry which 
can transmute a blessing into a bane, and distil deadly 
poison from precious truths. The tarantula spider ex- 
tracts poison from the most delicious blossoms. So man 
can extract poison from the fruits of the tree of life, 
and death from the very leaves which are for the heal- 
ing of the nations of the earth. But, to object to a 
doctrine because it may be abused, or to reject it because 
it may be perverted, is just to imitate the man who 
would cut down a beautiful fruit-tree, because caterpil- 
lars find food from its leaves, and spiders weave their 
webs amid its branches. We must test conclusions by 
1 the law and the testimony,' and not by the fancied 
abuses to which they may be open. * 

" Grace has been made the pretext for licentiousness, 
and that cross on which man's sins ought to be cruci- 
fied, has been used to cover and conceal them." 

I shall only, therefore, in the language of Dr. Russell, 
advert to the objection, that to maintain the certainty 
of the salvation of all who die in infancy, is calcula- 
ted to induce parents to be less fervent in prayer for 
their children while in that state, or when they are 



92 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS/ 

apparently dying in it, because they will conclude that 
in such circumstances there is littleor no call for sup- 
plications in their behalf. In addition to what has al- 
ready been said, in reply to this objection, it remains 
to be observed, that it proceeds upon the principle that 
some, even of the infants of Christian parents, may 
eternally perish, for otherwise there could be no uncer- 
tainty on the subject. If, again, there be no uncer- 
tainty in regard to the salvation of the dying infants of 
believing parents, then the objection is as strong against 
this view of the subject, as against that which is now 
pleaded for. It follows, then, that those who make this 
objection, so far from considering the promises respect- 
ing the children of believers, as including the certain 
salvation of all of them who die in infancy, actually 
think that a great degree of uncertainty hangs upon 
the subject. Now, do any who take this view of the 
subject feel the smallest scruple as to the propriety of 
praying for the salvation of the dying infants of unbe- 
lievers ? And if they do not, they of course allow that at 
least some of the infants of such may be saved, for if they 
do not believe this, why do they pray for them any 
more than for fallen angels ? On this principle they 
ought only to pray for the conversion of the parents, and 
not in the first instance, in behalf of the children. 

It is to be hoped, however, that none will say, that it 
is sinful to pray for such children, and that no Chris- 
tian will fail to pray that they may be saved. Indeed, 
it is generally allowed, even by those who hesitate as 
to the salvation of all infants, that some of the infants, 
even of unbelievers, shall be saved. 

If, then, the objectors in question allow that some of 
the infant children of unbelievers may be saved, what 
is this but saying of them what they say of the infant 
children of believers, for the objection supposes that all 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 93 

even of such, are not to be saved ? Is not this com- 
pletely to give up the point ? Does it not place the in- 
fant children of believers and unbelievers as much on a 
par, as does their indiscriminate salvation ? In vain, 
therefore, is any objection on this ground brought 
against the sentiment now pleaded for. If again it be 
said, that there is a certainty of the salvation of the 
infants of believers, but not of other infants, then, as 
has been hinted, the objection is as applicable to Chris- 
tian prayer, in regard to the former, as it is on the prin- 
ciple, that all infants are saved. 

This objection supposes, too, that such parents deem 
it needless, if not absurd, to pray for that of which we 
have a promise, or of the accomplishment of which we 
are certain. But will any pious and rightly informed 
parent reason in this way ? David had a promise 
made him, that his house and kingdom should be es- 
tablished for ever, and yet no sooner did he hear it, 
than we find him praying that it might be accomplish- 
ed. " And now, O Lord God, the word that thou hast 
spoken concerning thy servant, and concerning his 
house, establish it for ever, and do as thou hast said."* 
After making many promises to his people, God says, 
" I will yet for this be inquired of by the house of Is- 
rael to do it for them."t When Daniel knew that the 
time of deliverance from Babylon was at hand, he be- 
came the more earnest in prayer for it.t Are not 
Christians assured that the knowledge of the Lord shall 
cover the earth as the waters cover the sea, and does 
not this assurance encourage and stimulate to prayer, 
instead of causing them to relax in it ? And will not 
the assurance that their infant offspring, when taken 
hence, are removed to the heavenly paradise, call forth 

* 2 Sam. vii. 16, 25. t Ezekiel xxxvi. 37. t Dan. ix. 2, 3. 



94 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

the aspirations of a devout and a thankful heart ? Will 
it not lead parents to devote them to the God of all 
grace, and the Father of mercies ? And when they sit 
by the death-bed of their departing infants, will not this 
confidence endear to them the cross and resurrection 
of the heavenly Adam, will it not enlarge their views 
of the exuberant grace of God, of the glory of the 
work of Christ, and of the preciousness and suitable- 
ness of the hope of the gospel ? and will it not attract 
their hearts towards the God of all consolation, whose 
glorious perfections are employed in bringing good out 
of evil, and and in making all things to work together 
for the present and the future blessedness of his people ? 
And can views and feelings such as these cause to 
restrain prayer before God ? Far, very far from it. 

How consoling are the views which this subject pre- 
sents to those parents who are bereaved of their chil- 
dren ! Theirs is privilege as well as pain. Of the 
destiny of their little ones who have preceded them we 
have no manner of doubt. It has not been thus with 
all Christian parents : Job saw his sons and his daugh- 
ters in the meridian of age laid prostrate before him. 
Aaron beheld his two sons struck down by the bolt of 
heaven, in the midst of their rebellion against God. 
But it can be little painful in comparison, to the Chris- 
tian parent, to behold an infant die, because he knows 
that that infant has been forgiven not only its orig- 
inal sin, but forgiven, in addition, through the rich 
mercy of God, its seventy years of weary pilgrimage. 
It has gained the crown without the turmoil — reached 
the goal without running of the course ; its harvest 
has been heaped upon its seed-time ; it has reaped 
without sowing. Its is a distinguishing privilege, and 
surely no Christian parent would wish an infant back 
again to earth. Could you say, let me ask of every 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 95 

parent that has lost an infant — could you say to your 
infant, if it were to come back. Weep no more, my 
child ? Could you dry all the tears from its eye, so 
that it should mourn no more ? What could you prom- 
ise it 1 Seventy years of sore pilgrima*ge at the very 
best, in a world where men must become almost mar- 
tyrs to get their daily bread : where all is hollow, de- 
ceptive, unreal, and where every moment as it speeds 
tells us that the great ocean-stream of eternity is rush- 
ing onwards, and carrying millions unprepared to the 
judgment-seat of God. Better is the babe in its Fa- 
ther's home. We do not wish to recal it. The tears 
of nature are wiped away by the hand of grace. We 
do not sorrow because our infants are removed. We 
rejoice. " The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken 
away. Blessed be His name, and blessed are the dead 
that died in Him, for they rest from their labours." 
They go (happy and holy ones) from a life of martyr- 
dom to a life of millennial blessedness ; and if an infant 
tongue in heaven could be audible on earth, that infant's 
tongue would say — Weep not for me ; " if ye loved me, 
ye would rejoice, because I am gone unto my Father." 

THE DYING INFANT TO ITS MOTHER. 

Cease here longer to detain me, 

Fondest mother, drowned in woe, 
Now thy kind caresses pain me, 

Morn advances — let me go. 

See yon orient streak appearing, 

Harbinger of endless day : 
Hark ! a voice the darkness cheering, 

Calls my new-born soul away. 

Lately launched, a trembling stranger, 
On the world's wild, boisterous flood, 

Pierced with sorrows, tossed with danger, 
Gladly I return to God. 



96 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee. 

Now my trembling heart find rest ; 
Kinder arms than thine receive me, 

Softer pillow than thy breast. 

There, my mother, pleasures centre ; 

Weeping, parting, care, or woe, 
Ne'er our Father's house shall enter : 

Morn advances — -let me go. 

Yes, bereaved parents, the hour is on the wing when 
we shall meet them, and mingle our hosannahs with 
theirs. 



EPITAPH ON A CHILD. 
FROM SACRED LYRICS, BY R. HUIE. 

Sleep on, my babe ! thy little bed 

Is cold, indeed, and narrow ; 
Yet calmly there shall rest thy head, 
And neither mortal pain nor dread 
Shall e'er thy feelings harrow ! 

Thou may' st no more return to me ; 

But there's a time, my dearest, 
When I shall lay me down by thee, 
And when of all, my babe shall be 

That sleep around, the nearest ! 

And sound our sleep shall be, my child, 

Were earth's foundations shaken ; 
Till He, the pure, the undefil'd, 
Who once, like thee, an infant smil'd. 
The dead to life awaken ! 

Then, if to Him, with faith sincere, 

My babe at death was giveiL, 
The kindred tie that bound us here, 
Though rent apart with many a tear, 
Shall be renewed in Heaven ! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 97 

OH, WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD. 

MARY E. BROOKS. 

Oh, weep not for the dead ! 

Rather, oh rather give the tear 

To th»se that darkly linger here, 
When all besides are fled. 

Weep for the spirit withering 

In its cold cheerless sorrowing, 

Weep for the young and lovely one 

That ruin darkly revels on ; 

But never be a tear-drop shed 

For them, the pure enfranchised dead. 

Oh, weep not for the dead ! 

No more for them the blighting chill, 

The thousand shades of earthly ill, 
The thousand thorns we tread ; 

Weep for the life-charm early flown, 

The spirit broken, bleeding, lone ; 

Weep for the death-pangs of the hearty 

Ere being from the bosom part ; 
But never be a tear-drop given 
To those that rest in yon blue heaven. 



POUR NOT THE VOICE OF GRIEF. 

ROBERT MORRIS. 

Pour not the voice of grief 

Above the sable bier ! 
The weary spirit finds relief 

In some more hallowed sphere. 
What recks it that the lip 

Hath lost its thrilling hue — 
Untainted was their fellowship 

As blushing rose and dew. 
And now — too soon a creeping thing, 
Will, like a leech, there feed and cling ! 
9 



98 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Yet weep not for the dead 

Who early pass away, 
_ Ere hope and joy and youth have fled, 

Ere woe has wrought decay ! 
Better to die in youth, 

When life is green and bright, 
Than when the heart has lost its truth 

In age and sorrow's night — 
Then woes and years around us throng, 
And death's chill grasp is on us long. 

Life is a rifled flower 

When love's pure visions fade — 
A broken spell — a faded hour — 

An echo — and a shade ! 
The poet's thirst for fame, 

And siren beauty's kiss, 
Ambition's height, and honour's name, 

But yield a phantom bliss — 
And man turns back from every goal 
Thirsting for some high bliss of soul. 

Would I had died when young ! 

How many burning tears, 
And wasted hopes, and severed ties, 

Had spared my after years ! 
And she on whose pale brow 

The damp and cold earth lies, 
Whose pure heart in its virgin glow 

Was mirrored in dark eyes ! 
Would I had faded soon with her, 
My boyhood's earliest worshipper ! 

Pour not the voice of woe ! 

Shed not a burning tear 
When spirits from the cold earth go, 

Too bright to linger here ! 
Unsullied let them pass 

Into oblivion's tomb — 
Like snow-flakes melting in the sea 

When rife with vestal bloom. 
Then strew fresh flowers above the grave 3 
And let the tall grass o'er it wave 1 



CHAPTER V. 



CHILDREN ARE TAKEN AWAY IN INFANCY FOR THE BENEFIT OF 

THE LIVING. 



The cup of life just to her lips she prest, 
Found the taste bitter, and declined the rest : 
Averse, then turning from the face of day, 
She softly sighed her infant soul away. 

Epitaph on an Infant. 

" But for myself I bless God I have observed and felt so much mercy 
in this angry dispensation of God, that I am almost transported ; I am 
sure highly pleased with thinking how infinitely sweet Ins mercies are, 
when his judgments are so gracious." — Jeremy Taylor on the loss of 
two children. 



Attention has been already called to several pas- 
sages of Scripture, and to the subject of infant salva- 
tion, which they bring to view. In considering them, 
I have endeavoured to give full force to that mystery 
which naturally surrounds this subject, and to that 
grief which the death of infants awakens in the hearts 
of those who are called to witness it, and to endure the 
bitterness of consequent separation. But with the 
light of this heavenly revelation as a guide, I have ad- 
ventured into the depth of this gloomy subject, and 
there found, I trust, inscribed upon it words of peace 
and comfort — nay, even of joy. Instead of mystery, 
there is around it bright evidence of wisdom and good- 
ness: instead of cruelty, there was discovered to be 
mercy; and thus, instead of withdrawing our affec- 
tions from Him who is the arbiter of our destiny, and 
of the destiny of our children, it draws them towards 



100 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

him with still stronger power. The removal of infants 
while in a state of infancy, I feel satisfied is in mercy 
to them. In mercy, if it is considered as affecting them 
temporally ; in delivering them from all the evils of this 
evil wo\id, and that before they are capable of appre- 
hending future suffering, or lamenting over the loss of 
future and anticipated good. And in mercy consider- 
ing it as it affects them eternally ; — in at once redeem- 
ing them from our sad inheritance of guilt and deprav- 
ity ;— in at once freeing them from the curse of the 
fall ; — rescuing them from the power of sin and Satan ; 
—admitting them to the privileges of the sons of God ? 
and introducing them to the glorious liberty, and the 
blissful occupations, of the bright world on high. 

One half the human race are thus early taken from 
their parents, their home, their family and their friends, 
and thus cut off from the future struggles of this toil- 
some life, through the mercy of our God, " having an 
entrance administered unto them," through the impu- 
ted merits of the Saviour's righteousness, and in virtue 
of his atonement, " into the everlasting kingdom of our 
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ," being washed, sanc- 
tified, justified, and completely redeemed. Having 
clean escaped the corruptions that are in this world 
through lust, they are made partakers of the divine na- 
ture, admitted to the divine presence, exalted to be 
ministering spirits, kings and priests unto God. Happy 
spirits ! who have passed through this vale of tears, ere 
the fountain of tears had been unsealed ; — who have 
journeyed through this valley of the shadow of death, 
while the gleam of the morning's sunshine irradiated it 
with joyful hope; who encountered the last enemy of 
sinful man while disarmed of his sting, and disrobed of 
his terrors ;— and whose whole eternity of happiness 
will have been unbroken by the sorrows^ the pains, and 



SOLACE FOE BEREAVED PARENTS. 101 

the remorseful agonies which fall in such showers of mis- 
ery, upon those who linger through life's sad vicissitudes. 

" Happy, thrice happy were they thus to die, 
Rather than grow into such men and women, 
— Such fiends incarnate as that felon-sire, 
Who dug its grave before his child was born ; 
Such miserable wretches as that mother, 
Whose tender mercies were so deadly cruel ! 
I saw their infant's spirit rise to heaven, 
Caught from its birth up to the throne of ,God ; 
There, thousands and ten thousands, I beheld, 
Of innocents like this, that died untimely, 
By violence of their unnatural kin, 
Or by the mercy of that gracious Power, 
Who gave them being, taking what he gave 
Ere they could sin or suffer like their parents. 
I saw them in white raiment crown'd with flowers, 
On the fair banks of that resplendent river, 
Whose streams make glad the city of our God ; 
— Water of life, as clear as crystal swelling 
Forth from the throne itself, and visiting 
Fields of a Paradise that ne'er was lost ; 
Where yet the tree of life immortal grows, 
And bears its monthly fruits, twelve kinds of fruit, 
Each in its season, food of saints and angels ; 
Whose leaves are for the healing of the nations, 
Beneath the shadow of its blessed boughs,. 
I mark'd those rescued infants, in their schools, 
By spirits of just men made perfect, taught 
The glorious lessons of Almighty Love, 
Which brought them thither in the readiest path 
From the world's wilderness of dire temptations 
Securing thus their everlasting weal. 

Yea, in the rapture of that hour, though songs 
Of cherubim to golden lyres and trumpets, 
And the redeem' d upon the sea of glass, 
With voices like the sound of many waters, 
Came on mine ear, whose secret cells were open'd 
To entertain celestial harmonies, 
— The small, sweet accents of those little children, 
Pouring out all the gladness of their souls 



102 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

In love, joy, gratitude, and praises to Him, 

- — Him, who had lov'd and wash'd them in his blood; 

These were to me the most transporting strains, 

Amidst the hallelujah's of all Heaven. — 

Though lost awhile in that amazing chorus 

Around the throne, — at happy intervals, 

The shrill hosannas of the infant choir, 

Singing in that eternal temple, brought 

Tears to mine eye, whilst seraphs had been glad 

To weep, could they have felt the sympathy 

That melted all my soul, when I beheld 

How condescending Deity thus design 'd, 

Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings here, 

To perfect his high praises ; — the harp of heaven 

Had lack'd its least but not its meanest string, 

Had children not been taught to play upon it, 

And sing, from feelings all their own, what men 

Nor angels can conceive of cofeatures, born 

Under the curse, yet from the curse redeemed, 

And placed at once beyond the power to fall, 

— Safety which men nor angels ever knew, 

Till ranks of these, and all of those had fallen."* 

Why then, it may be asked, do such infants live at 
all, seeing they are thus destined to press onwards to 
eternity ? They live, that they may become actually 
existent beings ;— they live that they may become 
mortal ;— that they may be united to the human fam- 
ily ; that they may be enrolled among the citizens of 
earth ;— and that thus they may become heirs to^ all 
the privileges, and entitled to all the blessings provided 
for the race of men. By their relation to the first 
Adam, they are related to the second Adam. By their 
incorporation with Adam, in the covenant of works, 
they are held equally capable of all the benefits of the 
covenant of grace. Their first birth thus prepares 
them for their second birth — their entrance upon earth 

* See Montgomery's Pelican Island, canto vii., where he describes a 
heathen parent sacrificing her child. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. iOS 

is the commencement of their bright pathway to the 
skies. And being thus introduced within the pale of 
humanity, they are called to the endurance of suffer- 
ing, in order that by inheriting the curse of mortality 
they may thus be placed under its remedy : in order 
that these present light afflictions may work out for 
them an exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; and 
that through their suffering, their survivors may be 
benefited and improved. 

This is and must be the case, for if any of those who 
die in infancy are not chosen of God to salvation, to 
what are they left by Him ? Is it to the impenitence 
and hardening influence of their hearts ? No, for they 
are removed before they are capable of actual sin, and 
of course, while incapable of despising his goodness, or 
taking occasion from it, to harden their hearts against 
Him. Is it to the consequences of Adam's sin ? No, 
for they shall rise again. Is it to the sufferings and 
penalties entailed by sin upon this evil world ? No, for 
God has in mercy removed them from it. Say, then, 
are not all who die in infancy chosen to inherit ever- 
lasting life through the grace of God, flowing through 
the atonement of Christ ? 

This brings me to the brief consideration of my sec- 
ond position, that the early removal of infants is not 
only in mercy to them, but also in goodness to us. Af- 
ter the satisfactory establishment of the first position, 
there will be little room for questioning the truth and 
certainty of the second, for if this dispensation of Prov- 
idence is of unquestionable mercy, considered as affect- 
ing infants in their temporal and eternal prospects, how 
can we but conclude that it is also kind in its bearing 
upon ourselves. Can our interests be different from, or 
opposed to, those of our children ? Can they be happy, 
and we miserable on their account ? Can their wel* 



104 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

fare be certainly and immeasurably promoted, and their 
parents left any reasonable ground for lamentation or 
regret? No ! their interests are ours ; — their happiness 
ours ;— and their advancement ours. " If love (says 
Baxter) teaches us to mourn with them that mourn, 
and to rejoice with them that rejoice, can it be an act 
of rational love to mourn for them that are possessed 
of the highest everlasting joys T Oh, no ! like Legh 
Richmond, we may press the lifeless remains of our de- 
parted child to our bosom, and in the agony of grief 
burst into tears, but like him let us, as we struggle with 
nature's anguish, exclaim, " My child is a saint in 
glory." 

We wish our children to be happy. Having been 
instrumental to their birth, we are solicitous for their 
welfare. Bearing our image, reflecting our every qual- 
ity, and living in our life, we feel that their comfort is 
one and identical with our own. And are our children 
happy here ; happy while called to struggle with so 
many infantile diseases, dangers and accidents ? Even 
if comparatively happy in this age, when their igno- 
rance is their bliss, and their very helplessness the source 
of their enjoyment ;— will they be always so ? In the 
very region of storms, can they escape their ravages ? 
—surrounded by misery, can they remain unharmed 
by its malignant influence ?— breathing the atmosphere 
of pollution, can they be saved from its corruption ?— 
and exposed to the shipwreck of their present character 
and the loss of their future and everlasting hopes, where 
is there security for their preservation or deliverance ? 
" There is a death worse than the death of the body,— 
the death of affection, of reputation, of conscience, of 
the soul. Parental hopes may be crushed by the mis- 
conduct of children, more than by the closing of the 
grave's portals. They may live only to treasure up 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 105 

wrath against the day of wrath, and bring down the 
grey hairs of pious parents with sorrow to the grave." 

The snare is before them, the pang and the sorrow. 
The breath of the Syren, the voice of the rod, 

The crime of to-day, the despair of to-morrow, 
And all that can sever the soul from its God. 



" See that son of many prayers ; he was consecrated to 
God in infancy. How anxiously do those Christian pa- 
rents watch every indication of sobriety. How ardently 
do they hope it may result in his salvation. What des- 
pondency and sinking of heart do they experience, as 
they behold him grow up in impenitence. He is about 
to leave his father's house ; his mother gives him a Bi- 
ble, and begs him to read it. But as he passes beyond 
the reach of parental restraint, he casts off fear, restrains 
prayer, takes his seat with the scorner, and, with the 
drunkard's unmeaning laugh, scoffs at the Bible, and 
the Bible's God. Behold him now the grief of parents, 
the shame of friends ; an outcast from society. Were 
it not for the hope that at some future period he might 
be overtaken by divine grace, and peradventure might 
repent, would it not be the spontaneous language of 
those afflicted parents, \ Would God, my son, that you 
had never been born ; would that you had died in in- 
fancy, ere such a measure of guilt and wrath had been 
treasured up against you !' And now let him be laid 
upon his dying bed, let all hope of his repentance be 
taken away ; and see him pass into eternity with all 
his sins upon his head, and what consolation can cheer 
the midnight gloom of such bereavement ? Be assu- 
red that there is a measure of grief in that affliction, 
compared with which all else is nothing. When Da- 
vid's infant child was dead, he arose, washed, anointed 



106 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

himself, and took refreshment : but when Absalom died, 
deep in sin and rebellion, his heart broke, and burst out 
in an irrepressible flood of grief, — < O my son Absalom, 
my son, my son Absalom, would God I had died for 
thee, O Absalom, my son, my son !' " — But are our 
children gone ? Have we committed them to an early 
grave ? Do they sleep the sleep of death ? And are 
they not happy ? Have I not proved that they are 
happy — happy to the full extent of their capacities — 
happy with the perfect bliss of heaven ? 

O ! mourn not for the dead, 
The happy dead who die in infancy — 
Calm is their slumber in the church-yard bed, 
Called early from life's struggles to their rest, 
Ere yet to their unconscious lip was prest 
The mingled cup of frail humanity. 
Oh do not mourn for them, their lot is blest. 

No more confined to grov'ling scenes of night, 
No more sad tenants pent in mortal clay ; 
Now should we rather hail their glorious flight, 
And trace their journey to the realms of joy 

We are not only desirous to see our children happy, 
but to have that happiness made sure to them. This 
is the great struggle of earthly ambition, — the fond de- 
sire of parents. It is their uncertainty, their instability 
which most painfully characterizes the joys of life. 
" The fashion of this world passeth away." That which 
is of, or connected with, the earth, cannot endure. 
Like its own changing seasons, its own uncertain sky, 
its own ever- varying phenomena, it abideth not. And 
the foresight of such coming changes, preparation for 
them, and the erection of some safe retreat, where we 
and ours may take refuge, and where our children may 
escape the rough adversities of life— this k the highest 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 107* 

wisdom of man. But the happiness of departed infanls, 
is it not secure and certain ? Does it not rest on found- 
ations, immoveable by wind or flood? The anchor of 
their hope, is it not within the vail ? The foundation 
of their joys, does it not rise in the paradise of God ? 
The tenure of their bliss, is it not guaranteed by the 
promise and the oath of Him who cannot lie, — who will 
not deny himself, and who is the same, yesterday, to* 
day, and forever? It is. And let then even reason 
itself teach us to submit, and to rejoice in hope. 

The Rev. J. S. Meissner, Moravian missionary in 
Labrador, observes, " We have known what it is to 
mourn over the loss of beloved children, having accom- 
panied two to their resting-place during our service in 
this distant land. I was once standing by the grave of 
my departed children, under a brilliant sun and cloud- 
less sky, when suddenly a light shadow passed over the 
green turf. Looking up for the cause, I beheld a snow- 
white gull winging her lofty flight through the air. 
The thought immediately struck me — Thus it is with 
the dear objects of my mournful remembrance. Here 
indeed lies the shadow, but above is the living princi- 
ple. Nor was the reflection without comfort to my 
wounded spirit, since of such is the kingdom of heaven." 

But again, we have made some tolerable provision 
for the security of the future happiness of our children, 
our next desire is to see them in such a situation as 
will give the promise of its permanence. So long as 
they remain within the years of immaturity, while they 
are unfixed in their destiny, or unsettled in their earth- 
ly relations, however ample may be the provision for 
their comfort, there is still connected with them the 
deepest solicitude. And if ever there is a time when a 
parent should be willing to say, " Now, Lord, lettest 
thou thy servant depart in peace," it is when he beholds 



108 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

his children, one after another, choosing the path of up- 
rightness and piety, and all settled down, each in his 
own homestead, and all together walking in peaceful 
and affectionate harmony. But over the most peace- 
ful establishment of sublunary and domestic bliss, how 
many fitful clouds portentously roll on the thunder ; 
and with what ruthless ferocity have we seen death 
enter the limits of such a happy community , and con- 
vert it into one wide waste of deserted ruin. But the 
infant dead ! is their happiness not permanent, and un- 
changeable, incorruptible, undefiled, and such as can- 
not fade away ? The infant dead ! — are they not set- 
tled for eternity, made immortally blessed, and far, far, 
and for ever, removed from all the sources of sorrow 
and of change? Instead, therefore, of indulging in 
those vain regrets, which suit those only who never 
look above earth's bounded scene, and centre all their 
treasures here, let us cherish feelings of resignation, 
thankfulness and hope. 

Let me not mourn, that thou wilt be 

A tenant of the sky,— 
Escaped from life's tumultuous sea, 

And frail mortality. 
When storms arise, and tempests blow, 
No adverse gale thy bark shall know. 

Let me rejoice, to think that thou 

Hast early joined the blest ; 
Before thy youthful heart could know, 

Aught to disturb its rest, — 
Before earth's chilling storms had given, 
A blight to fruit prepared for heaven. 

" One of the bitterest pangs too, which a parent can 
experience when about to die, is the thought that he 
leaves his children in an evil and dangerous world; -un- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 109 

certain what will be their conduct and destiny. While 
with the utmost confidence he can leave all the tem- 
poral allotments of his fatherless children with God, he 
cannot but feel some sorrow and foreboding at heart, in 
view of the uncertainty which overhangs their future 
prospects as moral beings, who are to act, choose, and 
decide for themselves. That uncertainty he escapes, 
who, before his ow T n departure, sees his children secure- 
ly laid in their best home and refuge. Once he might 
have mourned, and said of him who he had hoped 
would have been his solace and joy, i How is the strong 
staff broken, the beautiful rod !' — But now as he thinks 
of the uncertain conflict to which he would have been 
exposed, with the temptations and dangers of a wicked 
world, he is grateful that the blessed Jesus holds the 
keys of life and death, and that, like the skilful gar- 
dener, whose experienced eye detects the approaching 
storm, and who knows when to hide the lily in its nar- 
row bed, He knows when to put his little ones secure 
from the storm and tempest." 

Yes — if I have not sacrificed alJ other claims to thine, 
Surrendered with a selfish love, because that thou wert mine, 
I still may hope to feel that bliss within my soul revive, 
Which never in this yearning heart will languish while I 

live ; 
May hear thy unforgotten voice join the archangel's song, 
And know my own beloved one, amidst a holy throng, 
May see thee, by the light that breaks the shadows of the 

tomb, 
A portion of my happiness in the bright world to come ! 

They are gone — never to return ! — Where we now 
are, they can never more be. The home of their in- 
fancy they will never re- visit. Their baby couch they 
will never again press* The bosom which first beat 
for them, with the wild ecstacy of maternal love, they 

10 



110 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

will never, oh ! never embrace. The sound of their 
happy lullaby we shall never again hear. Nor shall 
we ever again reciprocate a parent's nameless joys. 
The heavenly sweetness of those countenances unfur- 
rowed by care or guilt, we shall never more gaze upon, 
nor shall we listen, in wrapt delight, to the infant prat- 
tle, or feel the throbbing of the joyful heart as we hear 
from their infant voices the loved name of father, or of 
mother. It is true, my bereaved friend, they are gone ; 
but it is also true that all solicitude is gone; — and 
while we look down the coming future, and see it as 
dark with storms as the troubled past, and as full of 
fiery trial as the present, we feel no consciousness of 
alarm for those who are now safely housed in their 
home in the skies. " To grieve us even for our profit 
is not the sole reason why they are consigned to an 
early grave. This is the passage by which even they 
must be brought into the presence of God, and this is 
the time when he pleases to call for them. How ani- 
mating the thought, that those powers which were but 
beginning to unfold themselves, are now expanding, 
and employed amid the glories of the heavenly para- 
dise. Whether they were spared for a season, and mul- 
tiplied attractions and endearments, or were cut off 
from the womb, and had the allotment which Job so 
passionately wished had been his, the same end has 
been answered. Their short-lived existence on earth, 
may appear as a kind of blank, but God does nothing 
in vain. Their life below, short as it was, has served 
to introduce the eternal state, as well as the life of the 
hoary headed patriarch. At the same time, their death 
by its effects will impress a character on the eternity 
of surviving witnesses, relatives, and friends. Let be- 
reaved parents then say, c It is well with the child/ 
* It in the Lord, let him do what seemeth good in hi* 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. Ill 

sight.' He who wept at the grave of Lazarus, hath 
hallowed the tears of affection, but he forbids us to 
sorrow, as if there were no hope. While you weep as 
nature feels, and indeed ought to feel, for otherwise 
the providence could not profit you, beware of nurs- 
ing melancholy, and cherishing a morbid sensibility. 
May not the child say to you, ' If ye loved me, ye 
would rejoice, because I have got home to my father.' 
If the hope of going to the Saviour animates your 
heart, is not the thought, that the happy spirit will 
c never return to you,' in this evil world, likewise 
fraught with consolation ? ' Staying only to wash 
away its native impurity in the laver of regeneration, 
it bade a speedy adieu to time and terrestrial things — ■ 
just looked on the light, and then withdrew into the 
more inviting regions of undisturbed repose. — Happy 
voyager ! no sooner launched, than arrived at the 
haven.' No one acquainted with the works of this 
evangelical writer will suppose that he identifies regen- 
eration with an external rite. He obviously refers to 
that change of heart which is indispensably necessary 
in order to the enjoyment of the kingdom of heaven." 
And these helpless innocents — oh ! how do they 
steal upon the heart — how insensibly do they entwine 
themselves around us ! — how irresistibly do they en- 
gross the thoughts, and call forth pride and vanity, and 
selfishness, and an overfondness of inordinate regard ! 
Like the slender creeping vine, do they attach them- 
selves to us — lean helplessly upon us— drink in, from 
our joy, all their merriment — throw around us their 
fragrance and beauty — but, like it, do they oftentimes 
insidiously cramp the growth of piety, and drink up 
the essential aliment of godliness. And if God has 
transplanted them to his own heavenly vineyard, and 
by so doing, restored our souls to health and prosperity} 



112 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

should we not rejoice in that tribulation which worketh 
out for us such peaceful fruits of righteousness ? We 
may lament as an incurable evil, what God esteems an 
invaluable good. Our prayers and energies may be 
excited to agony in warding off a storm which it is his 
purpose shall come down upon us in all its fury. We 
watch at the couch of a languishing child : our life is 
bound up in his ; if it die it seems to us God must de- 
sign to undo us, and yet, perhaps, that child was given 
us that it might die in our arms and be the means of 
our sanctification. Sixteen years after such an afflic- 
tion, a father says, " I have found the loss of my child, 
which is the greatest cross I ever met with, hath been 
blessed to the good of my soul." As a good woman once 
said, " Bearing my children and my crosses has cost me 
dear, but I would not be without either. It is not fit 
that I should choose my affliction, what God lays on 
me is welcome, and I will esteem Christ no worse for 
his cross ; for I find these bitter waters most medicinal, 
and the sweetest fruit grows on this bitter tree." 

Thou, then, pale mourner o'er an infant's bier, 
Brighten thy cheek, and dry the trick' ling tear ; 
This came, though veiled in darkness from above, 
A dispensation of eternal love ! 
He who perceived the dangerous controul, 
The heart-twined spell was gaining on thy soul, 
Snatch' d from thine arms the treacherous decoy 
To give thee brighter hope, and purer joy. 

Should we, however, have been enabled to preserve 
our hearts from too excessive fondness for the creature, 
have we guarded them as faithfully against all the 
other seductions of this spiritual idolatry ? Have we 
given our hearts, and the supremacy of our thoughts, 
purposes and desires to the business of life, to the many 
cares of the household, to the heaping up of riches, to 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 113 

the enjoyment of pleasure, or to any other creature — . 
more than to God, to religion and to things divine ? 
And if it was thus with us, were we not closing up all 
intercourse between our souls and God ; shutting out 
the light of Heaven ; obscuring the pathway to ever- 
lasting life; and thus fast gathering around our souls 
the dark shadow of despair. Was it not, then, merci- 
ful in that God we were thus putting far from us, to 
visit us with some touching bereavement, and thus 
waken us to our dangerous position ? "A mother is 
employed during a score of months, in rearing to in- 
telligence a lovely babe ; but at the juncture when it 
begins to reciprocate her smiles, when it had entirely 
entwined her heart, had become an essential ingredient 
in her cup of blessings, she wakes and finds herself 
embracing a lump of lifeless clay. All distress and 
darkness, she inquires, Why did it not perish in the 
birth ? Why could it not have died when I loved it 
less ? Why must it live till a mother cannot survive 
its death? And yet perhaps this very event is the 
means of snatching the mother from perdition."* 

M Why do the loveliest of earth, 

The soonest pass away — 
Like radiant flowers of summer birth, 

The earliest to decay? 

" They come like angel forms to bless 

Our visions for a while, 
They make our daily burden less— 

And half our tears beguile. 

" They grow so deeply in our hearts, 

We make them idols there ; 
'Till God in love asunder parts — 

The ties which bind them here. 

* Clark'i Works, vol. i. p, 304. 
-in* 



114 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

" 'Tis thus He chides us that we love 

The creatures more than God ; 
To fit our souls for rest above — 

He chastens with his rod I" 

" There is something pleasing in this fact : that 
every infant that you lose is a link that binds you to 
the grave, on the one hand, and a link also that binds 
you to eternity on the other. A portion of yourself 
has taken possession of the tomb, to remind you that 
you must lie down there. A soul that was related to 
yourself has taken possession of eternity, to remind 
you that you must enter there. Our bodies are, 
through our infants, in communion with the dust ; and 
our spirits, through theirs, with the everlasting throne. 
We are so disposed to strike our roots into this fading 
and fainting earth, that it becomes mercy on the part 
of God to send those chastisements, which loosen our 
affections from a world doomed to flame. Each infant 
that we lose is a tie (holy and happy truth !) less to 
bind us to this world, and a tie more to bind our hearts 
to that better w r orld where our infants have preceded 
us. It is thus God gradually loosens the tree before it 
falls. Death thus loses half its pain before it overtakes 
us. Happy truth, if we realize it ! Happy lesson, if 
we feel it ! Good and gracious is that Father, who thus 
preaches to His people from the infant's bier, when 
they will not learn the lesson which they need from His 
ambassadors in the pulpit !" And that such may be 
the result, we are encouraged to hope from the follow- 
ing fact. 

Several years ago, said the Rev. Mr. G., I was called 
to attend the funeral of a child five years of age. She 
had sickened and died suddenly. The father I knew 
not, except that he was an infidel. This child had at- 
tended my Sabbath school, and she had left behind 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 115 

some interesting conversation with several members of 
the church. This, after the child had died, was com- 
municated to the bereaved mother for her consolation. 
At the funeral the mother appeared more deeply inter- 
ested in the subject of her own salvation than that of 
the loss of her child. The next Sabbath this family- 
were at my meeting and requested prayers that their 
affliction might be sanctified. They continued to at- 
tend meeting. Sabbath after Sabbath, and on the fifth 
Sabbath, the father became hopefully pious. Soon 
after this his wife became pious, and then a sister, and 
then a young lady residing in the family ; and the fa- 
ther, mother, sister, and young lady, all, on the same 
Sabbath, made a public profession of their faith in 
the Lord Jesus Christ. That father is now a pillar 
in the Church. This great change in that family was 
produced instrumentally by the death of that child ! 

Who will say this dear child lived and died in vain ? 
Will not many an aged Christian have fewer gems to 
brighten their crowns of rejoicing, than will this babe 
in Christ? " That life is long which answers life's 
great end." 

We are too ready, notwithstanding all the admoni- 
tions we receive, to connect prolonged existence with 
the period of life and the quantum of health : and thus 
are thousands kept in a trance-like indifference to the 
urgent calls of death and eternity. And surely if aught 
beside the dread reality of that hour of doom, and that 
after judgment of which it is the prelude, can break 
this delusive, this soul-destroying spell, it is when we 
behold death lay the grasp of his icy fingers upon some 
moving form of youth and beauty, and in the very ful- 
ness of exuberant and ruddy health, consign it to the 
tomb. Here surely, Oh man ! you cannot but be 
taught, that youth, or strength, or health, are no bar- 



116 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

rier to the approach of death, and that in this warfare 
there is no retreat and no victory. In this matter all 
are equal, all alike mortal, and all alike destined to 
death, and to that "judgment which is after death!" 
So that the highest, as well as the lowest, the richest, as 
well as the poorest, must bow to the stroke of bereave- 
ment, of affliction, and of death. How forcibly was 
this truth taught in the case of the Princess Charlotte : 

A throne on earth awaited thee, 

A nation long'd to see thy face : 
Heir to a glorious ancestry, 

And father of a mightier race. 

Vain hope ! — that throne thou must not fill ; 

Thee shall that nation ne'er behold ; 
Thine ancient house is heirless still ; 

Thy line will never be unroll'd. 

Yet while we mourn thy flight from earth, 

Thine was a destiny sublime : 
Caught up to Paradise in birth — 

Snatch' d by Eternity from Time. 

The mother knew her offspring dead : 

Oh ! was it grief, or was it love 
That broke her heart ? The spirit fled 

To seek her nameless child above. 

Led by this natal star, she trod, 

His path to Heav'n ; the meeting there, 

And how they stood before their God, / 
The day of judgment shall declare. 

Again, how constantly do we find ourselves associat- 
ing the guilt and the danger of sin with open and gross 
enormities, to the entire forgetfulness of the truth, that 
after all sin lies in the heart — that this is its fountain 
— and that from its enmity to God, and aversion to ho- 



80LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 117 

liness, proceed all other transgressions. Oh, what a 
rebuke does God give to this delusion of Satan, by 
which thousands are ensnared in the net of perdition, 
when he brings death, the effect of sin, and the demon- 
stration of His infinite hatred of sin, even upon infants ! 
For if they, who have not sinned personally, are made 
to suffer the curse of a violated law, how shall those 
escape who, to all the guilt of original corruption, have 
added all the blackness of their own voluntary iniquity, 
and their own perverse rejection of mercy ? 

How willingly too, do men deceive their hearts and 
sustain themselves in a course of sin, by interpreting 
that goodness and long-sufferance of God by whick ke 
would " lead them to repentance," into an indifference 
to the conduct of his creatures. Approach, deluded mor- 
tals, to that infant bed ! There lies an innocent and 
helpless nursling in the convulsive throes of death. Un- 
availing to its relief are a mother's prayers, or a phy- 
sician's help. Bold infidelity, say wherefore is it so ? 
Is God so over- willing to repent him of his threatenings, 
as you say he is ? Is God so reckless of offences ; is 
God so willing to pass by unatoned transgression as you 
aver he is ? Wherefore, then, does he thus inflict even 
on this helpless babe the awful curse pronounced on 
man thousands of years ago ? Miserable men ! who 
remember not that God " treasures up wrath against 
the day of wrath, and his righteous revelation against 
every son of man who doeth evil ; and that the wicked 
shall be turned into hell with all who forget God." 

To unbelieving and unconverted parents, therefore, 
the death of their infants speaks in solemn and impres- 
sive tones. Surely such parents " are summoned by their 
best feelings to the cross. Though they are guilty of 
violating God's law, and yet more in refusing GocPs 
gospel, their infants, if lost during the period of infancy, 



118 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

are not suffering the consequences of their parents' guilt ; 
they rest from their tears, they are snatched from the 
contagion of their company. Here is mercy to their 
souls as well as mercy to their bodies. Their infants 
are in perennial peace ; but if the parents die unsaved, 
unsanctified, untransformed, unrenewed, a yawning 
chasm must separate them from their infants for ever 
and ever. Theirs will be the joy, but yours, unconvert- 
ed reader, must be the sadness ; theirs the blessing, but 
yours for ever the conscious and consuming curse. No 
interchange of love shall ever cross the gulf that sev- 
ers you. The stroke that severs you in time severs 
you in eternity also." 

Such then are the lessons taught by this dispensa- 
tion of providence, by which God would admonish, and 
instruct us, and by which, these afflictions, light com- 
pared with what they might be, and with what we de- 
serve, and light contrasted with the whole duration of 
our being, may work out for us an exceeding and eter- 
nal weight of glory. And when we duly consider the 
necessity and importance of these truths and their 
bearing upon our present and everlasting interest ; — 
and to their consideration add the delightful assurance 
that it is well with our departed infants, can we not 
confidently and triumphantly say that they are thus 
early removed in mercy to them, and in kindness to us ? 
Is not the bitterness of their death thus removed, and 
its sting extracted ? Can we not with Job say, " the 
Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be 
the name of the Lord ?" Can we not with Aaron ex- 
claim, " It is the Lord, let him do as seemeth to him 
good ?" Can we not with David rejoicingly declare, 
" They cannot come to us, but we can go to them?" 
Yes, we can go to them. " They are not lost, but gone 
before." There in that world of light; and love, and 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 119 

joy, they await our coming. There do they beckon us 
to ascend. There do they stand ready to welcome us. 
There may we meet them, when a few more suns or 
seasons shall have cast their departing shadows upon 
our silent grave. Then shall our joy be full and our 
sorrows ended, and all tears wiped from our eyes. 

Oh ! when a mother meets on high, 
The child she lost in infancy ; 
Hath she not then for pains and fears, 
The day of woe, the watchful night, 
For all her sorrows, all her tears, 
An over payment of delight % 

Death separates, but it can never disunite those who 
are bound together in Christ Jesus. To them, death 
in this power of an endless separation, is abolished. It 
is no more death, but a sweet departure, a journey from 
Earth to Heaven. Our children are still ours. We are 
still their parents. We are yet one family — one in 
memory — one in hope — one in spirit. Our children are 
yet with us, and dwell with us in our sweetest, fondest 
recollections. We too, are yet with them, in the bright 
anticipations of our reunion with them, in the glories 
of the upper sanctuary. We mingle together indeed 
no more in sorrow and in pain, 

But we shall join love's buried ones again 
In endless bands, and in eternal peace. 

Blessed and glorious hope, and blessed and glorious 
gospel by which it is inspired ! I have gloried in thee, 
but never as I do now. I have found thee precious, 
but never as precious as now. I have hoped in thy 
word, and stayed myself on thy promises, and exulted 
in thy immortal hopes, but never aught as now. 
When I stood a fond parent, surrounded by my little 
ozies, growing up in their sweet loveliness around me, 



120 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

my future delight, my future helpmates and compan- 
ions, I rejoiced in the sunshine which this heavenly 
gospel threw around me. But when I stood bereft of 
these loved ones — when I saw them cold in the speech- 
lessness of death — when I put them both together in 
their clayey bed, there to sleep the sleep of death — 
when my heart shuddered to think that there they 
would lie exposed to winter's storms and the summer's 
torrid heat — then did thy cheerful promise, span as 
with a bow of hope my dreary darkness, sustain my 
sinking heart, and enable me, even with death, and its 
horrid desolations before me, triumphantly to exclaim 
" Oh death where is thy sting, oh grave where is thy 
victory ! thanks be to God who giveth me the victory 
through our Lord Jesus Christ !" And here let me 
commend, especially to bereaved parents, this " balm 
for wounded spirits." Clasp it, sorrowing mourner, to 
your bosom. Receive it into your inmost heart. 
Treasure it as your pearl of greatest price. Seek it as 
your first and greatest object of pursuit. Buy it at 
whatever cost. Sell it — no, not for worlds. Heaven is 
not only our home, our rest, our heaven — it is now the 
home of our children — it is our common inheritance. 
Let it then be the prize of our high calling. Towards 
it let us press. To it let us continually ascend. For 
it let us diligently prepare, that when our earthly house 
of this tabernacle is taken down, we may have a build- 
ing of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in 
the Heavens. 

For oh ! that star of morn still beams 

With light to direct my feet. 
There ,when I have done with my earthly dreams, 

The parent and child may meet. 

" It may be," as Cotton Mather observes, " your af- 
fliction is the loss of children. Well, have you not 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 121 

read such a message sent to a godly man, as that in 
1 Sam. ii. 33. i The son of thine whom I shall not cut 
off, shall be to consume thine eyes, and to* grieve thine 
heart.' It is possible that, if thy child had lived, it 
might have made thee the father of a fool, or (that I 
may speak to the sex that is most unable to bear this 
trial) the mother of a shame. It is a very ordinary 
thing for one living child to occasion more trouble than 
ten dead ones. However, your spiritual interests may be 
exceedingly injured by the temporal delights which you 
desire ; you may rue what you wish, because it may 
be an idol, which will render your souls like the c bar- 
ren heath in the wilderness before the Lord.' It was 
the very direful calamity of the ancient Israelites, in 
Psalm cvi. 15. ' The Lord gave them their request, 
but sent leanness into their souls. 5 A lean soul, a 
wretched soul, a soul pining away in its iniquities, is 
oftentimes the effect of those fine things which we dote 
upon. It is a blasted soul that sets up a creature in 
the room, on the throne of the great God, that gives 
unto a creature those affections and cares which are 
due unto the great God alone. Such idolatry the soul 
is too frequently by prosperity seduced into. We are 
told, in Prov. i. 32. i The prosperity of fools destroys 
them ;' many a fool is thus destroyed. O fearful case ! 
A full table and a lean soul ! A high title and a lean 
soul ! A numerous posterity and a soul even like the 
kine in Pharaoh's dream ! Madness is in our hearts if 
we tremble not at this ; soul calamities are sore calam- 
ities." 

" Let not then the death of your children cause any 
inconsolable grief. The loss of children did I say — 
nay, let me recal so harsh a word. The children we 
count lost, are not so. The death of our children is 

11 



122 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

not the loss of our children. They are not lost, but 
given back ; they are not lost, but sent before. 

" Well, this is the calamity which many of you at 
some time or other have experienced ; the death of 
children is a thing in which the children of Jacob sel- 
dom escape a resemblance of their father. Many carry 
themselves under the trial, as if a death of virtue, yea, 
as if a death of reason had befallen them ; but recol- 
lect yourselves, O dejected Christians, and be not like 
them that mourn without hope this day. Let bereav- 
ed parents be still believing parents ; the voice of the 
great God that formed all things is unto them, as in 
Jer. xiii. 16. ' Refrain thy voice from weeping, and 
thine eyes from tears, for thy work shall be rewarded, 
saith the Lord. 5 Let the thoughts which have been 
set before us compose and settle our minds under this 
affliction. Let us not say, this thing is against us; 
but let us say, 'the Lord gave, and the Lord hath 
taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord. 5 It is 
indeed very true, that this affliction is none of the most 
easy to be borne ; the heart of a parent will have pe- 
culiar passions working in it, at such a time as this, 
though there be greater sorrows than those with which 
we follow a child unto the grave ; I bless God it is a 
more bitter thing to say, my sin is mighty ; or to say, 
my soul is guilty, than it is to say, my child is dead ; 
that moan, ' I have pierced my Saviour,' is more heart- 
wounding, than to mourn as one mourneth for a first- 
born. Yet few outward, earthly anguishes are equal 
unto these. The dying of a child is like the tearing 
of a limb from us. But O remember, that if ever we 
had any grace in our souls, we have ere this willingly 
plucked out a right eye, and cut off a right hand, for 
the sake of God. Why should we not then, at the 
call of God, readily part with a limb, and leave him 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 123 

room to say, c Now I know that thou fearest me, be- 
cause thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, 
from Me.' It was from God that we received those 
dear pledges, our children, and it is to God that we re- 
turn them. We cannot quarrel with our God, if about 
those loans he say unto us, Give them up ; you have 
had them long enough ! We knew what they were 
when first we took them into our arms ; we knew that 
they were potsherds, that they were mortals, that the 
worms which sometimes kill them, or at least will eat 
them, are but their name-sakes; and that a dead child 
is a sight no more surprising than a broken pitcher or 
a blasted flower. 

" But we did not, we do not know, what they might 
be, in case they were continued among the living on 
the earth. We cannot tell whether our sons would 
prove as plants grown up in their youth, and our 
daughters as corner stones polished after the similitude 
of a palace ; or, whether our sons might not, like Isaac's 
son, do those things that would be \ a grief of mind 
unto us/ and our daughters, like Jephtha's daughter, be 
of them that trouble us. Christians, let us be content 
that our wise and good God should choose our portion 
for us ; he will appoint us none but a goodly heritage. 
Our temptation is no more than what is common to 
men, yea, and to good men. The greatest part of those 
human spirits, that are now beholding the face of God 
in glory, are such as dwelt in the children of pious peo- 
ple, departed in their infancy. And what have we to 
say, why we should not undergo it as well as they. 
Was the infant whose decease we deplore, one that was 
very pretty, one that had pretty features, pretty speech- 
es, pretty actions ? Well, at the resurrection of the just 
we shall see it again ; the Lord Jesus will deal with our 
dead children as the prophets Elijah and Elisha did by 



124 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

those whom they raised of old ; he will bring them to 
us, recovered from the pale jaws of death ; and how 
amiable, how beautiful, how comely they will then be, 
no tongue is able to express, or heart to conceive ! 
Though their beauty consume in the grave, yet it shall 
be restored, it shall be increased, when they shall put 
off their bed-clothes in the morning of the day of God. 

" Again ; was the infant now lamented, very sudden- 
ly snatched away, and perhaps awfully too ! not merely 
by a convulsion, but by scalding, by burning, by drown- 
ing, by shooting, by stabbing, or by some unusual harm % 
Truly it is often so, that the quicker the death the bet- 
ter. It is more desirable for our children to feel but a 
few minutes of pain, than it is for them to lie groaning 
in those exquisite agonies which would cause us even 
ourselves to wish that the Lord would take them out 
of their misery. As for any more grievous and signal 
circumstance attending our dying children, our best 
course will be to have it said of us, ' they ceased ; say- 
ing, The will of the Lord be done !' As the love or 
wrath of God is not certainly declared in, so our grief 
before him should not be too much augmented by, 
such things as these. And it is a favour, if so much 
as one of our children be left alive unto us. Let not 
the sense of one trouble swallow up the sense of a 
thousand mercies. The mother from whom a violent 
death has taken one of her two children, may immedi- 
ately embrace the other and say, ' Blessed be God who 
has left me this.' 

" But once more ; is the deceased infant an only child ? 
Are we now ready to sigh — All is gone ! Nay, thou 
hast but a poor all, if this were all. I hope thy only 
child is not thy only joy. If thou hast ever experienced 
the new birth, the sense of thy soul is, one Jesus is 
worth ten children ; yea ? one Christ is worth ten 

1 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 125 

worlds. What though all thy candles are put out ! 
The sun, the sun of righteousness is arising to thy 
soul for ever. An undone man art thou indeed ! 
thou hast thy little glass of water spilt or spoilt, while 
thou hast a fountain, a living fountain running by thy 
door ! The blessed God calls thee, my child; and that 
is infinitely better than a name of sons and of daugh- 
ters. 

" Finally. Have we any doubts about the eternal 
salvation of the children which we have buried out 
of our sight? Indeed as to grown children, 
there is often too sad cause of suspicion or solicitude ; 
and yet here, the sovereign disposals of God must be 
submitted to. Besides, though it may be we could not 
see such plain marks and signs of grace in our adult 
children as we could have wished for, nevertheless they 
might have the root of the matter in them. There 
are many serious, gracious, well-inclined young people, 
who conceal from every body the evidences of their 
repentance, and the instances of their devotion. You 
cannot tell what the Lord did for the souls of your poor 
children before he took them out of the world. Per- 
haps they sought, they found mercy at the last. The 
child of a good parent is not to be despaired of, though 
turned off the gallows. 

" But as to young children, the fear of God will take 
away all matter of scruple in the owners of them, 
Parents, can you not sincerely say, that you have 
chosen God in Christ for the best portion, as of your- 
selves, so of your children ? Answer this : if your 
children had been spared unto you, would it not have 
been your care to have them brought up in the nurture 
and admonition of the Lord ? Would you not have 
used all prayers and pains to have them engaged unto 
the service of the living God, and unto a just aversion 



126 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

to all the vile idols and vain courses of the world ? Then 
be of good cheer : your children are in a better place, a bet- 
ter state, than you yourselves are yet arrived unto. The 
faithful God hath promised, I will be their God, as well 
as thy God. O say, This is all my desire, though the 
Lord suffer not my house to grow. Those dear chil- 
dren are gone from your kind arms, into the kinder 
arms of Jesus, and this is by far the best of all to have 
children this day in heaven. Truly this is an honour 
which neither you nor I are worthy of. But so it is : 
the King of kings hath sent for our children to confer 
a kingdom on them. They are gone from a dark vale 
of sin and shame ; they are gone into the land of 
light, and life, and love ; there they are with the spir- 
its of just men made perfect; there they serve the 
Lord day and night in his temple, having all tears 
wiped from their eyes ; and from thence methinks I 
hear them crying aloud unto us, c As well as you love 
us we would not be with you again : weep not for us, 
but for yourselves, and count not yourselves at home 
till you come to be f as we are, for ever with the Lord.' 

"I have done. The fit epitaph of a dead infant 
(that, that alone is enough to be the solace of a sad 
parent), is, 4 Of such is the kingdom of heaven.' "* 

To you who are still the parents of living children, 
or who may be such, let me say, Take heed and be- 
ware of regarding as your own, what is entrusted to 
you by the Lord, and for the Lord. Look upon your 
children as immortals — as passing, you know not how 
rapidly — to the world beyond. While provident of 
their present wants and temporal comforts, make their 
heavenly welfare your chief concern. Let your lan- 
guage be that of the poet. 

* Right Thoughts in Sad Hours. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 127 

Dear cherished babes, if you should have 

To travel far alone, 
And weep by turns at many a grave 

Before you reach your own ; 
May he who bade you weep, be nigh 

To wipe away your tears, 
And point you to a world on high, 

Beyond these mournful years. 
Yet if it be his holy will, 

I pray, that hand in hand, 
We all may travel many a hill 

Of this the pilgrim land. 
With Zion's shining gate in view 

Through every danger rise, 
And form a family anew 

Unbroken in the skies. 



Again, would I remind you of the uncertain tenor by 
which you hold you children, friends, and all earthly 
blessings. The days of darkness will come upon you. 
Through much tribulation you must enter the king- 
dom of God. As a general, when he is suddenly over- 
taken by an overpowering enemy, or by the inclement 
frosts of winter, falls back into some well garrisoned and 
impregnable fortress, until the enemy has gone and his 
strength has increased — so, let me advise you, to have 
these hopes and comforts of the gospel understanding- 
ly and thoroughly fixed in your memory ; and con- 
stantly preserved in your frequent meditation ; that 
when met by some sudden and overwhelming visita- 
tion, you may not find yourself exposed, shelterless 
and alone, to the pitiless peltings of the storm, but may 
at once take refuge under this safe covert until the 
tempest be overpast. And may God in infinite mercy 
fit and prepare us all for the issues and events of life, 
for the hour of death and the day of judgment. 



128 30LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



ON THE DEATH OP AN INFANT. 

In heart divided, and in spirit rent, 

Who could forbid a mother to lament? 

Death ! thou dread looser of the dearest tie, 

Was there no aged and no sick one nigh ? 

No languid wretch who long'd, but long'd in vain, 

For thy cold hand to cool his fiery pain % 

And was the only victim thou couldst find, 

An infant on its mother's arms reclin'd ? 

But 'tis thy way to pass the ripest by, 

And cause the flowers and buds of life to die ; 

Full many a flow'r is scatter'd by the breeze, 

And many a blossom shaken from the trees, 

And many a morning beam in tempest flies, 

And many a dew-drop shines awhile and dies : 

But oftener far, the dreams that fancy weaves, 

Of future joy and happiness, deceives. 

And thou pale mourner, o'er an infant's bier, 

Brighten thy cheek, and dry the trickling tear ; 

This came, though veil'd in darkness, from above, 

A dispensation of eternal love ! 

He who perceiv'd the dangerous controul, 

The heart-twin'd spell was gaining on thy soul, 

Snatch'd from thine arms the treacherous decoy, 

To give thee brighter hope and purer joy. 

Oh ! see how soon the flow'rs of life decay, 

How soon terrestrial pleasures fade away. 

This star of comfort, for a moment giv'n, 

Just rose on earth, then set to rise in heav'n. 

Yet mourn not, as of hope bereft, its doom, 

Nor water with thy tears its early tomb ; 

Redeem'd by God from sin, releas'd from pain, 

Jts life were punishment, its death were gain. 

Turn back thine eye along the path of life, 

View thine own grief, and weariness and strife : 

And say, if that which tempts thee to repine, 

Be not a happier lot by far than thine. 

If death in infancy had laid thee low, 

Thou hadst escap'd from pain, and sin, and woe ; 

The years thy soul the path of sorrow trod, 

Had all been spent in converse with thy Go4 ,' 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 129 

And thou hadst shone in yonder cloudless sphere, 

A seraph there, and not a pilgrim here. 

O ! it is sweet to die, — to part from earth,— 

And win all heav'n for things of little worth ; 

Then sure thou wouldst not, though thou couldst awake 

The little slumberer, for its mother's sake. 

It is when those we love, in death depart, 

That earth has slightest hold upon the heart. 

Hath not bereavement higher wishes taught, 

And purified from earth, thine earth-born thought % 

I know it hath. Hope then appears more dear, 

And heaven's bright realms shine brightest through a tear. 

Though it be hard to bid thy heart divide, 

And lay the gem of all thy love aside — 

Faith tells thee, and it tells thee not in vain, 

That thou shalt meet thine infant yet again, 

On seraph wings, the new-born spirit flies, 

To brighter regions and serener skies ; 

And, ere thou art aware, the day may be 

When to those skies thy babe shall welcome thee. 

While yet on earth, thine ever-circling arms 

Held it securest from surrounding harms ; 

Yet even there, disease could aim her dart, 

Chill the warm cheek, and stop the fluttering heart. 

And many a fruitless tear-drop thou hast paid, 

To view the sickness that thou couldst not aid. 

No ill can reach it now, it rests above, 

Safe in the bosom of celestial love : 

Its short but yet tempestuous way is o'er, 

And tears shall trickle down its cheek no more. 

Then far be grief! Faith looks beyond the tomb, 

And heav'n's bright portals sparkle through the gloom. 

If bitter thoughts and tears in heav'n could be, 

It is thine infant that should weep for thee. 



ON THE DEATH OF MY SON. 
FROM SACRED LYRICS, BY R. HtTIE, 

My little one, my fair one, are then thy troubles o'er ? 
And has thy slight and feeble bark arrived at Canaan's 
shore ? 



130 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Hast thou at length a haven reached, where thou can anchor 

fast? 
And heed no more the pelting storm, the billow or the 

blast? 

My little one, my fair one, though brief thy course has 

been, 
Few days of sunshine cheered thee on, few smiling coasts 

were seen ; 
It seemed as o'er thy shallop frail the raven flapped his 

wing, 
And scared the bright and halcyon tribes, which might thine 

advent sing. 

My little one, my fair one, thy couch is empty now, 
Where oft I wiped the dews away, which gathered on thy 

brow ; 
No more amidst the sleepless night I smooth thy pillow fair, 
'Tis smooth indeed, but rest no more thy small pale features 

there. 

My little one, my fair one, thy tiny carriage waits, 

But waits in vain to bear thy form through yon Inviting 

gates ; 
Where bloom the flowers as erst they did, when thou 

couldst cull their sweets, 
But roams in vain thy father's eye, no answering glance it 

meets. 

My little one, my fair one, thy lips were early trained 

To lisp that gracious Saviour's name, who all thy guilt 

sustained : 
Nor would I weep because my Lord has snatched my gourd 

away, 
To blossom bright, and ripen fair, in realms of endless day. 

My little one, my fair one, thou canst not come to me, 

But nearer draws the numbered hour, when I shall go to 

thee. 
And thou, perchance, with seraph smile, and golden harp 

in hand, 
May' st come the first to welcome me. to our Emmanuel's 

land! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 131 

A FATHER'S REFLECTIONS ON THE BIRTH OF A SON. 

PRESIDENT DAVIES. 

Now thou art born into an anxious state 

Of dubious trial for thy future fate ; 

Now thou art listed in the war of life, 

The prize immense ; and, oh ! severe the strife : 

Another birth awaits thee, when the hour 

Arrives, that lands thee on the immortal shore, 

(And oh ! 'tis- near, with winged haste 'twill come, 

Thy cradle rocks towards the neighbouring tomb), 

Then shall the immortals shout, " A son is born," 

Whilst thee, as dead, mistaken mortals mourn. 

From glory then, to glory thou shalt rise, 

Or sink from deep, to deeper miseries ; 

Ascend perfection's everlasting scale, 

Or still descend from gulph to gulph in hell. 

Thou embryo angel, or thou infant fiend! 

A being now begun, but ne'er to end, 

What boding fears a father's heart torment, 

Trembling and anxious for the grand event, 

Lest the young soul so late by heaven bestowed, 

Forget his father, and forget his God ; 

Lest while imprisoned in this house of clay, 

To tyrant lusts he falls a helpless prey ; 

And, lest descending still from bad to worse, 

His immortality should prove his curse. 

Maker of souls ! avert so dire a doom, 

Or snatch him back to native nothing's gloom. 



CHAPTER VI. 



SELECTIONS IN PROSE, CONFIRMATORY AND ILLUSTRATIVE OF 
THE PRECEDING VIEWS. 



The heart that has not known the hour 

When Grief could bid it bow, 
Or seen that looks and words have power 

To cloud the brightest brow, 
'Twere vain to torture with a song 

So sorrowful as mine ; 
Leave such to pant amid the throng 

That crowd life's gilded shrine. 

But ye who suffer — who have felt 

The destiny of earth, 
That Death with shadowy hand hath dealt 

Rebuke amid your mirth ; 
To you this tribute of a word, 

When other sounds have fled, 
Will come like loved tones faintly heard : — 

The Memory of the Dead. 



STATE OF INFANTS IN HEAVEN.* 

My Dear Friend,— You desired some thoughts 
upon the existence and employments of the spirit of an 
infant in the heavenly world ; and although there is 
not much said in Scripture upon the subject, yet, doubt- 
less, many a pious mother, whilst shedding the tear of 
parental affection over her departed little one, has been 
anxious to trace that spirit into the regions of everlast- 
ing happiness and glory. That there are different de- 
grees of glory it cannot be questioned, if you look at 
several passages of Scripture, such as the following : — 

* From the Evangelical Magazine, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 133 

Rev. xxi. 10 — 17 ; James v. 10 ; Daniel xii. 3 ; Matt, 
xiii. 43 ; 1 Cor. xv. 41 ; Rev. vii. 13—17. 

From these passages, we may gain the assurance 
that this is the case, and that will be sufficient to allay 
every fear of the doubting mind. 

" I saw a little baby breathe its last." 

One evening, I had just sat down to read, when some 
person knocked at the door, and Mr. - — - entered to 
inform me his baby, to all appearance, was near death. 
Immediately I went down stairs, and soon perceived the 
interesting little object could not exist many hours. At 
such a time, how affecting was the scene ! Parents, 
servants, and friends waiting to see the change. Their 
thoughts seemed called away from every thing earthly. 
The parents were wrapt up in the thought, " We shall see 
our child no more." I marked the sovereignty of God. 
He does according to his will, independently and irre- 
sistibly, without giving an account of his matters any 
further than he pleases. He does nothing without the 
best reasons, whether those reasons be disclosed to his 
creatures or not. All his pleasure, all his determina- 
tions are perfectly wise and good, founded on the best 
of all reasons, and directed to the best purposes. It was 
very affecting to see the approach of death in one so 
young. Her struggles were soon over. I watched un- 
til I fancied I saw the soul depart, but it was a spirit. 
; Twas not flesh. It escaped from the body, and was in 
a moment translated and introduced to a world of spirits. 
How amazing the change ! how incomprehensible ! It 
was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned 
with glory and honour. It was a wonderful change, 
if we only contemplate its introduction to angels. At 
the moment that soul entered their presence, its facul- 

12 



134 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

ties were enlarged, its knowledge increased, its mind 
expanded to a wonderful degree. It lives in ever-bloom- 
ing youth, highly-favoured, exalted and happy, destined 
to survive and triumph when this universe will be de- 
stroyed. It will exist for ever and ever. That little 
being which, while in this world, was incapable of em- 
ploying itself, is now, in its character, complete. It is 
possessed of attributes divine : all these are angelic and 
heavenly. Its employments are numerous, and all be- 
coming its station. The world could not furnish ma- 
terials for the composition of such an angelic character. 
It is perfectly free from fault, impurity, and defect. It 
has escaped all the troubles of life, and will never meet 
with any thing that will prove an alloy. Its pleasures 
are unfading, and every tear is wiped away. But how 
astonishing that this little being should be introduced 
into the presence of God ! that Being, whose power can, 
in a moment, crush the proudest monarch, and who 
possesses an essential glory to which our imaginations 
cannot extend, and a sublimity of character which is 
elevated above the utmost stretch of thought. But 
when he took upon himself our nature, and lived in our 
world, he said, " Suffer little children to come unto me, 
and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heav- 
en." She dwells in his presence, is near his throne, and 
sits at his feet. Increasing praises dw T ell upon her lips ; 
boundless perfection constitutes her felicity. Her holi- 
ness is for ever perfected. Her affections are made to 
flow in ever-during channels towards the source of in- 
finite perfection. Her knowledge is expanded beyond 
the highest conception. The sources of it are ever 
widening, ever increasing. The light of heaven irra- 
diates her, and its splendours delight her soul. Her 
vision is unclouded, and penetrates the deep things of 
God, A short time ago, she was a sufferer here j now, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 135 

she is a rejoicing spirit. She has attained to fuller 
powers than she could have done in this world, had she 
been possessed of the greatest wisdom and the talents 
of the most accomplished individual that ever sojourned 
here. She possesses unbounded freedom, and delights 
in executing the Divine will. See her amongst the 
glorious throng, now bending in holy adoration before 
the Majesty of heaven, and now a commissioned mes- 
senger to far distant worlds. 

My thoughts were lost in the boundless track, and 
earth seemed too polluted to mingle again in its low 
pursuits. 

" No ; if I could, I would not call her down." 

" Through glass of faith I plainly see 
That she is happier far than me. 
Her golden harp she tunes so sweet, 
While sitting at her Saviour's feet, 
That I should like to go and hear, 
I sometimes think, and shed a tear, — 
No tear of sorrow, but of joy, — 
The hymns that now my child employ. 
Angels do sit and listen round, 
I make no doubt, to catch the sound, 
And every voice in chorus raise, 
To sound the great Redeemer's praise." 



" 1 WANT TO BE AN ANGEL.'' 

A child sat in the door of a cottage at the close of 
a summer Sabbath. The twilight was fading, and as 
the shades of evening darkened, one after another of 
the stars stood in the sky, and looked down on the 
child in his thoughtful mood. He was looking up at 
the stars and counting them as they came, till they 
were too many to be counted, and his eyes wandered 



136 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

all over the heavens, watching the bright worlds above. 
They seemed just like " holes in the floor of heaven to 
let the glory through," but he knew better. Yet he 
loved to look up there, and was so absorbed, that his 
mother called to him and said : 

" My son, what are you thinking of?" 

He started as if suddenly aroused from sleep, and 
answered : 

" I was thinking " 

" Yes," said his mother, " I know you were think- 
ing, but what were you thinking about ?" 

" O," said he, and his little eyes sparkled with the 
thought, " I want to be an angelP 

" And why, my son, would you be an angel ?" 

" Heaven is up there, is it not, mother ? and there 
the angels live and love God, and are happy ; I do 
wish I was good and God would take me there, and 
let me wait on him forever." 

The mother called him to her knee, and he leaned 
on her bosom and wept. She wept too, and smoothed 
the soft hair of his head as he stood there, and kissed 
his forehead, and then told him that if he would give 
his heart to God, now while he was young, the Saviour 
would forgive all his sins and take him to heaven 
when he died, and he would then be with God forever. 

His young heart was comforted. He knelt at his 
mother's side and said : 

u Jesus, Saviour, Son of God, 
Wash me in thy precious blood ; 
I thy little lamb would be — 
Help me, Lord, to look to thee." 

The mother took the young child to his chamber, 
and soon he was asleep, dreaming perhaps of angels 
and heaven. A few months afterwards sickness was 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 137 

on him, and the light of that cottage, the joy of that 
mother's heart went out. He breathed his last in her 
arms, and as he took her parting kiss, he whispered in 
her ear : 

" I am going to be an angel." 

This is a very simple story, and it is just the way I 
have felt a thousand times. I have looked at the 
heavens, and given up to the child's thought that there 
are the blest ; I have wished that I might be one of 
their company ; done with sin ; and a bright career of 
holiness and glory begun, to be ended never. 

And it looks so lovely there where God is, and the 
sunshine of his smile beams with matchless radiance 
on every heart, and love reigns through the realms of 
glory, and each strives to see which shall do the most 
for each other's bliss, that my heart goes there as to a 
resting-place, where sorrow cannot enter, and joy flows 
perennially from every soul. 

I feel at such times just like the child in the cottage 
door ; just like the man of old, who sighed for the 
wings of a dove that he might fly away. 

Yet, were it not for sin, this would be as bright and 
fair a world as that. God would be here as when in 
the morning of its being he walked in the garden with 
his friend, and smiled on him with parental love. The 
angels would be here, our companions and guides. 
Earth would be heaven, paradise as it was when sin 
was not. 

Then to be happy here, we must be holy. And the 
holier we are, the happier. And when we are released 
from sin, and by the merits and mercy of the Saviour, 
are introduced to the courts above, we shall be as the 
angels, holy, happy, rejoicing always with God.— 
Mother's Magazine. 

12* 



138 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

From Dr. Watts' letter to Madam Sewall, upon the 
death of her children. 

" Have you lost two lovely children ? Did you make 
them your idols ? If you did, God has saved you from 
idolatry. If you did not, you have your God still, and 
a creature cannot be miserable, who has a God. The 
little words c My God/ have infinitely more sweetness 
than ' my sons' or l my daughters.' Were they very 
desirable blessings ? Your God calls you to the nobler 
sacrifice. Can you give up these to him at his call? 
So was Isaac, when Abraham was required to part 
with him at God's altar. Are you not a daughter of 
Abraham ? Then imitate his faith, his self-denial, his 
obedience, and make your evidences of such a spiritual 
relation to him shine brighter on this solemn occasion. 
Has God taken them from your arms? And had'you 
not given them to God before ? Had you not devoted 
them to him in baptism? Are you displeased that 
God calls for his own ? Was not your heart sincere in 
the resignation of them to him? Show then, madam, 
the sincerity of your heart in leaving them in the hand 
of God. Do you say, they are lost ? Not out of God's 
sight, and God's world, though they are gone out of 
your sight and our world. c All live to God.' You 
may hope the spreading covenant of grace has shelter- 
ed them from the second death. They live, though 
not with you. 

" Are you ready to complain, you have brought forth 
for the grave ? It may be so, but not in vain. Is. lxv. 
25. c They shall not labour in vain, nor bring forth 
for trouble (i. e. for sorrow without hope) ; for they are 
the seed of the blessed of the Lord, and their offspring 
with them.' This has been a sweet text to many a 
mother, when their children are called away betimes. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS.' 139 

And the prophet Jeremy, ch. xxxi. 15, 17, has very- 
comfortable words to allay the same sorrows. Did you 
please yourself in what comforts you might have de- 
rived from them in maturer years ? But, madam, do 
you consider sufficiently, that God has taken them 
away from the evil to come, and hid them in the grave 
from the prevailing and mischievous temptations of a 
degenerate age? My brother's wife, in London, has 
buried seven or eight children, and among them, all 
her sons. This thought has reconciled her to the 
providence of God, that the temptations of young men 
in this age are so exceedingly great, and she has seen 
so many of the young gentlemen of her acquaintance 
so shamefully degenerate, that she wipes her tears for 
the sons she has buried, and composes her soul to pa- 
tience and thankfulness, with one only daughter re- 
maining. Perhaps God has by this stroke prevented a 
thousand unknown sorrows. Are your sons dead ? 
But are all your mercies dead too? Food, raiment, 
safety, peace, liberty of religion, access to the mercy 
seat, hope of heaven ; all these are daily matters of 
thankfulness. Good madam, let not one sorrow bury 
them all. Show- that you are a Christian, by making 
it to appear, that religion has supports in it which the 
world doth not know. What can a poor worldling do, 
but mourn over earthly blessings departed, and gone 
down with them comfortless to the grave ? But me- 
thinks a Christian should lift up his head, as partaking 
of higher hopes. May the blessed Spirit be your com- 
forter, madam. Endeavour to employ yourself in some 
business or employment of life continually, lest a soli- 
tary and inactive frame of mind tempt you to sit brood- 
ing over your sorrows, and nurse them to a dangerous 
size. Turn your thoughts often to the brighter scenes 
of heaven and the resurrection. 



140 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

"Forgive the freedom of a stranger 3 madam, who 
desires to be the humble and faithful servant of Christ 
and souls. " Isaac Watts." 



FROM DR. DODDRIDGE. 

Could I wish, that this young inhabitant of heav- 
en should be degraded to earth again ? Or would it 
thank me for that wish ? Would it say, that it was 
the part of a wise parent, to call it down from a sphere 
of such exalted services and pleasures, to our low life 
here upon earth ? Let me rather be thankful for the 
pleasing hope, that though God loves my child too well 
to permit it to return to me, he will ere long bring me 
to it. And then that endeared paternal affection, 
which would have been a cord to tie me to earth, and 
have added new pangs to my removal from it, will be 
as a golden chain to draw me upwards, and add one 
farther charm and joy even to paradise itself. And oh, 
how great a joy ! to view the change, and to compare 
that dear idea, so fondly laid up, so often reviewed, 
with the now glorious original, in the improvement of 
the upper world ! To borrow the words of the sacred 
writer, in a very different sense : " I said I was deso- 
late and bereaved of children, and who hath brought 
up these? I was left alone, and these where have 
they been V Was this my desolation ? this my sor- 
row ? to part with thee for a few days, That I might 
receive thee for ever J and find thee what thou art ?" 
It is for no language, but that of heaven, to describe 
the sacred joy which such a meeting must occasion. 

In the meantime, Christians, let us keep the lively 
expectation of it, and let what has befallen us draw 

* lis. xlix. 31. t Philem, ver, 15. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 141 

our thoughts to heaven. ■ Perhaps they will sometimes, 
before we are aware, sink to the grave, and dwell in 
the tombs that contain the poor remains of what was 
once so dear to us. But let them take flight from 
thence to more noble, more delightful scenes. And I 
will add, let the hope we have of the happiness of our 
children render God still dearer to our souls. We feel 
a very tender sense of the kindness which our friends 
expressed towards them, and think, indeed very justly, 
that their affectionate care for them lays a lasting ob- 
ligation upon us. What love then, and what service 
do we owe to thee, oh gracious Father, who hast, we 
hope, received them into thine house above, and art 
now entertaining them there with unknown delight, 
though our former methods of commerce with them be 
cut off! " Lord," should each of us say in such a case, 
" I would take what thou art doing to my child as done 
to myself, and as a specimen and earnest of what shall 
shortly be done." It is therefore well. 



THE REGENERATION OF INFANTS. J 

f 

BY THE REV. JAMES BUCHANAN.* 

Dr. Buchanan. shows the doctrine of the Confession 
of Faith on the subject of regeneration, of its absolute 
necessity to all men, including infants ; that it is not 
baptism, nor necessarily connected with it, although 
baptism is its sign seal, and when God pleases, its 
means ; and that infants are capable of being regen- 
erated. He then lays down the position that children, 
however young, even infants in their mothers' arms, are 

* Of the Free Church of Scotland, in his Work on the Office and 
Work of the Holy Spirit. Part I., ch. viii. Edinburgh, 1842. 



142 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

fit and capable subjects of divine grace, may be evinced by 
various considerations. Several of these considerations 
afford a presumption in favour of the expectation that 
some provision would be made in the scheme of grace 
on their behalf ; while others of them afford a positive 
proof that such a provision exists, and is available for 
their benefit. * 

The positive proof on the subject will be found to 
afford ample evidence for affirming that in the actual 
scheme of grace, provision has been made for the case 
of infants, and that they are fit and capable subjects of 
the Gospel salvation. 

That proof consists chiefly, (1) in express doctrinal 
statements on the subject ; (2) in recorded instances of 
sanctified infancy ; (3) in the analogy of the typical 
dispensation ; and (4) in the ordinance of baptism, as 
applicable to infants in the Christian church. * * * 

On these grounds, I think it must be evident that in- 
fant children are fit and capable subjects of divine 
grace, and that they are included in the covenant of 
redemption. It may be difficult for us to understand 
in what way the Spirit of God operates on their minds, 
or through what medium they obtain a participation 
of the blessings of salvation, which are said to be " by 
faith." The regeneration of infants may be ascribed 
to a direct operation of the Spirit on their minds, and 
in this respect may be said to resemble what is sup- 
posed to be in every case the primary influence of the 
Spirit, under which the soul is passive, and by which, 
without the intervention of any instrumentality, he ef- 
fects a permanent change, " predisposing it to receive, 
and love, and obey the truth.' 7 * By this direct opera- 
tion he may implant that principle of grace which is 

* Lectures by Dr. Payne of Exeter, 338, 357. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 143 

the germ of the new creature, — that incorruptible seed, 
which may lie long under the furrow, but will sooner 
or later spring up, and produce the peaceable fruits of 
righteousness. Our older divines were wont to distin- 
guish between the principle or habit of grace, and the 
exercise of grace ;* and to maintain that the principle 
might exist in children who were as yet incapable of 
the exercise, and that grace in such was real and sa- 
ving,! It may be generally connected too, with the 
faith of the parent, in whom, during the period of non- 
age, the infant is federally included.* But it is suffi- 
cient to say in the language of the Westminster Con- 
fession, that " they are regenerated and saved by Christ 
through the Spirit, who worketh when, and where, and 
how he pleaseth," — "for the wind bloweth where it 
listeth, and thou canst not tell whence it cometh, nor 
whither it goeth : so is every one that is born of the 
Spirit." And to him who objects to the regeneration 
of infants on the ground of its mysteriousness, may we 
not say, that the natural birth of a child is full of mys- 
tery : "I am fearfully and wonderfully made : mar- 
vellous are thy works, and that my soul knoweth right 
well. My substance was not hid from thee when I 
was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the low- 
est parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my sub- 
stance, yet being imperfect ; and in thy book all my 
members were written, which in continuance were fash- 
ioned, when as yet there was none of them ;" — and 
in the Preacher's words, " as thou knowest not what is 
the way of the Spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the 
womb of her that is with child, even so thou knowest 
not the works of God who maketh all." 



* Dr. Owen, ii. 283, 482, 492. t Ibid. ii. 413. 

t Homilies on Baptism, by Rev. Edward Irving, 346, 349 



144 SOLACE FOE BEREAVED PARENTS. 

FROM THE REV. DR. PVE, 

IN REPLY TO A LETTER OF CONDOLENCE ON THE DEATH OP HIS 

CHILDREN. 

Dear Sir,— I cannot sufficiently express my grati- 
tude for your very kind letter, and seasonable present 
of your sermon. My wife and I now look upon ourselves 
as your friends, in the best sense of the word ; since you 
have manifested so much tenderness and compassion in 
our late circumstances of grief, and indeed, to us, uncom- 
mon sorrow. I call them late circumstances, because 
the time is already come, when, I am sure, we can 
both of us speak of the death of our children with re- 
signation, and think of them with pleasure. What 
philosophy could not accomplish Christianity has done. 
To the author of our religion and our consolation be 
the glory. 

I cannot in a better manner express our thoughts 
upon this occasion, than by quoting the following lines, 
which I wrote, a few days after the death of our two 
children, for the use of my then mourning wife and 
myself. You may call it a short letter from my dear 
girl to us, just after she had ceased to breathe, and a 
little before her brother's death. 

"Your tender care and fond, though rational love 
of all your children, with your agonies of grief under 
the apprehension of parting with me and my dear bro- 
ther, are the most convincing proofs of the reality and 
greatness of your sorrow, now that I am gone, and he 
is just upon the wing to follow me to the unknown 
world. But it was He who made us that called us 
away, and we cheerfully obeyed the summons : and I 
must now tell you, though you both already know it, 
that He expects from you, not only that you meekly 
and calmly submit to such a seemingly severe dispen- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 145 

sation of his providence, but that you also rejoice with 
me in it, because it is the will and pleasure of our di- 
vine Father. 

" I, young as I was, am now become an inhabitant 
of heaven, and already see the beauty and harmony 
of that little chain of events, which related to my short 
abode in your world, and even the manner of my leav- 
ing it : and when you see the things as they really are 
and not as they may now appear, you will confess and 
adore the divine goodness, even in taking us so soon 
from your embraces. 

" God, who has made all things for the manifestation, 
of his adorable perfections, gave us our being from you ; 
adore him therefore for his goodness, in making use of 
you as instruments, in the course of events, to usher us 
into the world. Ask not why he so early removed us ; 
we sufficiently answered the great end of our being, if, 
while living at the same time that we gave you plea- 
sure, you were disposed to lead us, by your examples 
and precepts, into the paths of virtue and religion ; and 
if now, by the loss of us, you become examples of pa- 
tience and submission to the Divine will, which, next 
to doing the will of God, are virtues which bear the 
greatest name in our world. 

"Let, therefore, all the little incidents in our past 
lives, the remembrance of which are too apt to renew 
your sorrow, be so many occasions of your joy : inas- 
much as they may recall the pleasant ideas you once 
delighted in ; and to let the dismaying and melancholy 
remembrance of our sickness and early death, be 
changed into cheering and bright ideas of what we 
now enjoy ; and what you, I hope, will one day see us 
in possession of." 

13 



146 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



ORIGINAL LETTER OF DR. MASON.* 

The respected friend who has favoured us with these 
letters for publication, will have secured his main object, 
should any whom God has set in darkness, derive from 
them light and consolation. Let mourners read them 
and be comforted. The great truths which satisfied 
the reason, gave peace to the heart, and rendered full 
of immortality the hopes of Dr. Mason, can sustain the 
soul under every misfortune and calamity, and enable 
it to rise above the fear, and prove itself invincible in the 
warfare with Death. They are a treasure open and 
free for all who will receive them with thankful ac- 
knowledgment of the divine mercy and faith in our 
Lord Jesus Christ. With them poverty is rich, and 
sorrow clad in garments of praise ; without them the 
purple of all the Ceesars were but rags and wretched- 
ness, and kings poor indeed. , 



New York 12th April, 1808. 
Again in the furnace, my brother ! Again lament- 
ing under the chastenings of God ! My heart bleeds 
with yours, I pour out my tears and supplications that 
this new and sore visiting may be blessed, and may af- 
terwards yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness. It 
shall be so. It is so, in some measure, already. What- 
ever brings us to the feet of our Redeemer, does us good. 
He is the physician, and he knows best how to make 
up the prescription, and how to administer it. He has 
taken away your boy, but not Himself, nor his loving 
kindnesses. He has shown you the rod, but not the 
evil it has avoided. He has made you to smart under 
the stroke, but it is, probably, a substitute for some blow 

* From the N. Y. Observer. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 147 

unspeakably more awful, and perhaps nigh at hand 
when he smote you, but now turned aside forever. We 
must live by faith, my brother. Our comforts must 
not be our gods. Our souls have neither purity nor 
peace, nor establishment, nor victory, but in proportion 
as our fellowship is with the Lord our life, and our life- 
giving head. O, for that habitual nearness to him 
which shall keep in constant and gracious dependence 
upon his word of truth, which he has promised never to 
take utterly from us. The further the creature re- 
moves from us, the more desirable and consoling is our 
walking with him who, when we are overwhelmed^ 
knows our path. 

Yours most tenderly, 
Rev. Jas. Laurie. J. M. Mason. 



TO A BEREAVED PARENT. 

ERSKINE. 



I cannot, I dare not say, weep not. Jesus wept at 
the grave of Lazarus, and surely, he allows you to weep ■ 
surely, there is a " needs be" that you feel a heaviness 
under such a trial. But O, let hope and joy mitigate 
your heaviness. I know not how this, or a former trial, 
shall work for your good, but it is enough that God 
knows. He that said, "All things shall work together 
for good to them that love God," excepts not from this 
promise the sorest trial. You devoted your son to God ; 
you cannot doubt that he accepted the surrender. If 
he has been hid in the chamber of the grave from the 
evil of sin, and from the evil of suffering, let not your 
eye be evil, when God is good. What you chiefly wish- 
ed for him, and prayed on his behalf, was spiritual and 
heavenly blessings. If the greatest thing you wished 



148 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

for is accomplished, at the season and in the manner In- 
finite Wisdom saw best, refuse not to be comforted ; 
you know not what work and joy have been waiting 
for him in that world, where God's " servants shall serve 
him." Should you sorrow immoderately when you have 
such ground of hope that he, and his other parent are 
rejoicing in what you lament ? I know that nature 
will feel ; and I believe suppressing its emotions in such 
cases is not profitable, either to soul or body ; but I trust, 
though you mourn, God will keep you from murmur- 
ing, and that you shall have to glory in your tribulation 
and infirmity, while the power of Christ is manifested 
thereby. 

Unhappy one ! thou callest in vain unto the dead to 
awake. The sleep of the body is dreamless and eternal. 
Cold and white as the marble is that face of beauty : 
as still that breast which heaves with deep affection. 
Turn to the heavenly Helper ! Between God and thee 
was her love divided. O flee to Him in thy sorrow, and 
he will give thee consolation. He himself hath drunk 
of every cup of bitterness : he will have sympathy with 
thee in thy anguish ; he will heal thy broken heart. 

Walter Hawthorne. 



REV. ROBERT HALL 3 ON THE DEATH OF HIS CHILD. 

My Dear Friend : — 

I am greatly obliged for your kind and consolatory 
letter, replete with those topics whence alone true con- 
solation can be deduced. The stroke has been very se- 
verely felt by us both, but certainly most by dear Mrs. 
Hall. She was dotingly fond of our lovely boy. For 
my own part 5 1 was not at all aware my affection for 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 149 

him was so strong, until he was removed from us ; my 
anguish was then great. It seemed to me as if I felt 
more on this occasion, than I should at the loss of either 
of my others. This feeling, I suspect, was delusive, and 
arises from our being incapable of estimating the strength 
of our attachment to any object until it is removed. I 
was disappointed in his being a boy ; for recollecting 
my own extreme and portentous wickedness, I fancied 
there was something in the constitution of boys pecu- 
liarly tending to vice, and adverse to their spiritual in- 
terests. I had also remarked that females seemed much 
more susceptible of religious impressions than men. 
On these accounts I trembled for his salvation, and did 
not feel that gratitude for the blessing vouchsafed me, 
which I ought. I suspect I greatly displeased God by 
my distrust of his goodness, and that he saw it meet to 
adopt this method of chastising me. May it be sancti- 
fied as a means of making me humble, heavenly, and 
submissive. It is a very solemn consideration, that a 
part of myself is in eternity, in the presence, I trust, of 
the Saviour. How awful will it be, should the branch 
be saved, and the stock perish ! 

Pray for me, my dear friend, that this may not be the 
case ; but that I may be truly sanctified, and permitted 
to walk in the fear of the Lord, and in the consolations 
of the Holy Ghost. 



FROM A LETTER OF ROBERT HALL. 

I sincerely sympathize with you in the loss of your 
child ; but, my dear friend, do not suffer your spirits 
to sink. Remember the tenure on which all human 
enjoyments are held, the wisdom and sovereignty of 

their great Author, and the gracious promise afforded 

10* 



150 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

to true Christians, that " all things shall work together 
for good, to them that love him." 

Remember, also, the many blessings with which a 
kind Providence still indulges you. Ought you not to 
rejoice, that your affectionate companion in life is 
spared ; and that, though your child is snatched from 
your embraces, he has escaped from a world of sin 
and sorrow ? The stamp of immortality is placed on 
his happiness, and he is encircled by the arms of a 
compassionate Redeemer. Had he been permitted to 
live, and you had witnessed the loss of his virtue, you 
might have been reserved to suffer still severer pangs. 
A most excellent family, in our congregation, are now 
melancholy spectators of a son dying, at nineteen 
years of age, by inches, a victim to his vices. They 
have frequently regretted he did not die several years 
since, when his life was nearly despaired of in a severe 
fever. " Who knoweth what is good for a man all 
the days of this, his vain life, which he spends as a 
shadow ?" 



THE LOSS OF CHILDREN. 

FLAVEL. 



Mourner, whatever may be your grief for the death 
of your children, it might have been still greater for 
their life. Bitter experience once led a good man to 
say, " It is better to weep for ten children dead, than for 
one living." Remember the heart-piercing affliction 
of David, whose son sought his life. Your love for 
your children will hardly admit of the thought of such 
a thing as possible, in your own case. They appear- 
ed innocent and amiable ; and you fondly believed, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. lSl 

that through your care and prayers, they would have 
become the joy of your hearts. But may not Esau, 
when a child, have promised as much comfort to his 
parents as Jacob ? Probably he had as many of their 
prayers and counsels. But as years advanced, he de- 
spised their admonitions, and filled their hearts with 
grief. As a promoter of family religion, w T ho ever re- 
ceived such an encomium from the God of heaven as 
Abraham ? How tenderly did the good man pray for 
Ishmael ! " O that Ishmael might live before thee !" 
Yet how little comfort did Ishmael afford. 

Alas ! in these days of degeneracy, parents much 
more frequently witness the vices of their children 
than their virtues. And even should your children 
prove amiable and promising, you might live to be the 
wretched witness of their sufferings. Some parents 
have felt unutterable agonies of this kind. 

God may have taken the lamented objects of your 
affection" from the evil to come. When extraordinary 
calamities are coming on the world, he frequently hides 
some of his feebler children in the grave. Surely, at 
such a portentous period, it is happier for such as are 
prepared, to be lodged in that peaceful mansion, than 
to be exposed to calamities and distresses here. Thus 
intimates the prophet Jeremiah, " Weep not for the 
dead, neither bemoan him ; but weep sore for him 
that goeth away ; for he shall return no more, nor see 
his native country." It was in a day when the faith 
and patience of the saints were peculiarly tried, that the 
voice from heaven said, " Write, blessed are the dead, 
which die in the Lord, from henceforth." 



152 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

THE EARLY DEAD.* 
To Mr. — * — and Mrs. on the loss of an only child. 

I hope I am not insensible to the severity of the 
blow which has fallen upon you, and spread desolation, 
over your house ; I desire in the spirit of Him who was 
a man of sorrows, to condole with you in this affliction. 

It seems but yesterday that I beheld your dear A , 

and rejoiced with you in her personal comeliness, and 
her bright promise. Now the grave covers her from our 
sight. Alas ! how insecure are our choicest pleasures, 
and our most valued blessings. Like the dew upon a 
flower, how soon they vanish, and we see them no 
more ! We trust — our confidence is destroyed ; we 
hope — our expectation is cut off. 

It is no province of mine ta exhort you not to mourn. 
" Jesus wept." The bosom will heave : we have affec- 
tions and sympathies ; and who shall say it is unchris- 
tian to drop the tributary tear over the ashes of the 
loved and lost ? But I may exhort you to saek that 
temper of resignation, which will enable you to say 
with Job,— " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
away, blessed be the name of the Lord." You may 
have occasion hereafter to say, It is good for us that we 
have been afflicted. 

" Amid your list of blessings infinite 
This may stand foremost, that your hearts have bled. 17 

Pray that God would not only send consolation, but 
the sanctifying influences of his Spirit ; pray that " this 
dart, like that which once pierced an imposthume in 
battle, may bring health with its wounds ;" and you 

* From the N. Y. Observer. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 153 

shall be enabled to say with one of old, " The Lord 
hath chastened us sore ; but he hath not given us over 
unto death." 

Death, though it involves many circumstances of a 
painful character, is often, in no small degree, render- 
ed even attractive and lovely. There is something 
glorious and sublime in the exit of a saint, who is ripe 
for heaven, from this sorrowful, sinful world. There is 
something even lovely in the departure of an infant to 
be with angels, notwithstanding the awful chasm 
it occasions in the bereaved circle. The lifeless clay is 
beautiful ; death cannot " steal the signet ring of 
heaven." It is no paradox, then, to speak of the 
beauty of death. We gaze upon features, pale and 
cold indeed, but which have never been furrowed by 
care ; which have never been distorted by envy, malice 
or revenge, never have been darkened by pining grief. 
And as we gaze, there is no retrospect of reverses and 
vicissitudes, of sorrows and of sin. True we hold the 
remains of one who was the offspring of depraved pa- 
rents, who inherited a depraved nature, and could be 
saved only by the atoning merits of a crucified Sav- 
iour ; and who, if life had lasted, would have been ex- 
posed to temptation and sin. But how consolatory and 
cheering the reflection that the soul, which so lately 
animated the lifeless frame, now adorns, like a starry 
gem, the crown of our glorious Immanuel. 

It is a relief to the agonized feelings of parents and 
bereaved friends, that the early dead are rescued from 
many evils to come. This world is a wilderness, 
through which it is impossible to pass and avoid dan- 
ger ; or this life is a voyage which exposes us to many 
tempests and adverse winds. How many in their sor- 
row, have mourned like Job that they did not die in 
infancy, " for then they should have lain still and been 



154 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS!. 

quiet, they should have slept and been at rest/' The 
early dead escape not only temptations and sins, but 
from the hazards of this changeful world, from vicissi- 
tudes, pain, weakness, from days of anguish, from 
sleepless nights, from untold agony. The merciful 
Disposer of events may have foreseen a storm of ad- 
versity impending, and therefore removed your precious 
lamb to a place of safety — the upper fold — to the bosom 
of the good Shepherd. Is it not safer, nay, happier on 
that bosom than it could have been on your own? 

And how consolatory is the reflection that your dear 
A is not lost, but only removed to another apart- 
ment in our heavenly Father's house ! Gone before 
you — gone, indeed, to return no more ; but not lost, 
and may still be yours ; 

" A treasure but removed, 
A bright bird parted for a clearer day — 
Yours still in heaven ! ,J 

Yours hereafter to meet — yours to love — yours with 
whom to rejoice in eternal hymns of praise to a glorifi- 
ed Saviour. If children are a parent's jewels, let him 
not be disconsolate, when they are taken to be planted 
in the Redeemer's diadem. If children are our olive 
plants, flowers which we tenderly cherish, let us not 
mourn when they are taken to a shelter from the win- 
try storm and tempest. 

It is to Christianity we are indebted for the most ef- 
fectual consolation in the hour of bereavement. It dis- 
robes death of his terrors, and disarms him of his 
sting. It teaches us to view death as a separation, 
and strews the amaranth over the tomb. Christianity 
styles death a sleep, and the grave a bed ; an old writer 
calls it " a perfumed bed," for Jesus slept in it. It con- 
secrates the sepulchre. It places angels of light around 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 155 

its portals to guard and keep the reposing dust, and 
writes thereon, " Hope," " Eternal Life." 

That God may comfort you with the consolations of 
his grace, which are neither few nor small, is the pray- 
er of your friend, Ald. 

Boston, Jan. 29th, 1840. 



,THE INFANT IN HEAVEN. 
BY DR. CHALMERS. 

The following beautiful passage from the writings 
of Dr. Chalmers may comfort many a sorrowing mother, 
as she weeps over the grave of her infant babe. 

This affords, we think, something more than a du- 
bious glimpse into the question, that is often put by a 
distracted mother when her babe is taken away from 
her — when all the converse it ever had with the world, 
amounted to the gaze upon it of a few months, or a few 
opening smiles, which marked the dawn of felt enjoy- 
ment ; and ere it reached perhaps the lisp of infancy, 
it, all unconscious of death, had to wrestle through a 
period of sickness with its power, and at length to be 
overcome by it. Oh ! it little knew what an interest 
it had created in that home where it was so passing a 
visitant — nor, when carried to its early grave, what a 
tile of emotion it would raise among the few acquaint- 
ances it left behind it ! On it, too, baptism was im- 
pressed as a seal : and, as a sign, it was never falsified. 
There was no positive unbelief in its bosom ; no resist- 
ance yet put forth to the truth ; no love at all for the 
darkness rather than the light ; nor had it yet fallen 
into that great condemnation which will attach itself 
to all that perish because of unbelief, that their deeds 



156 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

are evil. It is interesting to know that God instituted 
circumcision for the infant children of the Jews, and at 
least suffered baptism for the infant children of those 
who profess Christianity. Should the child die in in- 
fancy, the use of baptism, as a sign, has never been 
thwarted by it ; and may we not be permitted to in- 
dulge a hope so pleasing, as that the use of baptism as 
a seal remains in all its entireness ; that He, who sanc- 
tioned the affixing of it to a babe, will fulfil upon it the 
whole expression of this ordinance. And when we 
couple with this the known disposition of our great Fore- 
runner, the love that he manifested to children on earth, 
how he suffered them to approach his person, and lav- 
ishing endearment and kindness upon them in the streets 
of Jerusalem, told his disciples, that the presence and 
company of such as these in heaven formed one ingre- 
dient of the joy that was set before him ; tell us if 
Christianity does not throw a pleasing radiance around 
an infant's tomb? and should any parent who hears 
us, feel softened by the touching remembrance of alight 
that twinkled a few short months under his roof, and 
at the end of its little period expired, we cannot think 
that we venture too far, when we say, that he has only 
to persevere in the faith, and in the following of the 
gospel, and that very light will again shine upon him 
in heaven. The blossom which withered here upon 
its stalk, has been transplanted there to a place of en- 
durance ; and there it will then gladden that eye which 
now weeps out the agony of an affection that has been 
sorely wounded ; and in the name of Him who, if on 
earth, would have wept along with them, do we bid all 
believers present, to sorrow not even as others which 
have no hope, but to take comfort in the thought of that 
country where there is no sorrow and no separation. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 157 

Oh ! when a mother meets on high, 
The babe she lost in infancy ; 
Hath she not then for pains and fears, 
The day of woe, the watchful night, 
For all her sorrow, all her tears, 
An over payment of delight ? 



THE VIEWS OF A TROUBLED FATHER OF MANY CHIL- 
DREN, AND A SELF-CONDEMNED CHRISTIAN: 

IN A LETTER TO THE AUTHOR. 

But, as if to show the nothingness of human ap- 
plause — in the midst of our brightest and happiest 
hours, there comes one of those alarming and unexpect- 
ed strokes of providence, to embitter even the short pe- 
riod allotted to us for enjoyment — the season of youth. 
It is only for a few years, when our first-born children 
begin to articulate the name of father, and to hang 
around us, with all that ardour of filial affection, and to 
wait for an approving smile, or a fond caress., that we 
experience the blessing without alloy, of having chil- 
dren. Bye and bye, they begin to love to wander ; and 
the bustle of life — the studies of school — and the natu- 
ral disposition for play — take off their attention from pa- 
rents, and from home, and except during the few short 
moments of meals, our children are no more seen by 
us than entire strangers. Every succeeding year in- 
creases the distance, and anxieties like a wild deluge 
burst upon us, so that w r e are frequently tempted to 
wish that responsibilities so heavy had not been laid 
upon us. Such have been my feelings for the last 
seven years, and I state them in order to comfort you 
under the late severe bereavements. These considera- 
tions may have some weight with you, but what can 

id 



158 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

be said to relieve a mother's anguish ? In her heart is 
inflicted a festering wound, which nothing earthly can 
heal. But, blessed be God, there is consolation to be 
drawn from a higher source. God is our refuge, and 
our strength ; a very present help in the time of trou- 
ble, and he doth not afflict willingly, or grieve the chil- 
dren of men. He gives, and when he takes away, he 
takes but what he gave ; he can give the oil of joy for 
mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of 
heaviness. When our children are removed in infancy, 
we know, who have endured the storms of life, from 
how many they have been sheltered within the bosom 
of their father and their God. If the dear Saviour, 
when on earth, took them up in his arms and blessed 
them, with what joy will they not be received into the 
land of pure delight, washed and made white in the 
blood of the Lamb. 

These must be part, and the greater part of that in- 
numerable throng who surround the throne ; else heav- 
en would not be peopled with inhabitants, for I really 
believe few of those who have long dwelt on earth, are 
fitted to enter there — few are chosen. Sin gains strong- 
er and stronger dominion every year ; and love for di- 
vine things, or real joy in believing, becomes less and 
less ; and the troubles of life nearly drown the fire of 
celestial love that once glowed in the heart. 

And so I find it to be in others, the older they grow — 
therefore, there are few that be saved unless as by fire. 
How T merciful, and how kind is it, therefore, in early 
years, for the good Shepherd to snatch his young lambs 
from the jaws of the wolf, the temptations of a wicked 
world, and a growingly wicked heart ; from the cold 
blasts of wintry adversity, to those blissful regions, where 
the sun shall no more go down, nor the moon withdraw 
herself j where He } who is on the throne, shall be theijc 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 159 

everlasting light, and their days of mourning shall be 
ended. Will you accept these few poor imperfect 
thoughts on this melancholy subject, as the best that 
have suggested themselves to me ? I know you and 
your wife avail yourselves of all that comfort which is 
derived from daily application at the throne of grace, 
and there alone can you expect to receive peace to your 
troubled minds ; and there I leave you. My trials have 
been heavy and severe, but of a different kind, and I 
see no release from them in this world. To whichso- 
ever side I turn, all looks black, and gloomy, and cheer- 
less, and I feel yet as the dove who flew from the Ark, 
but could find no place that was not covered with the 
waters whose angry billows had swept away every 
thing lovely in creation, and left nothing for the eye 
to rest upon but chaos. Such is my present prospect. 
I could wish at the close of the year to dwell on more 
joyous scenes, but I cannot. May God of his infinite 
mercy sanctify to us the bereavements and changes of 
this eventful year, and prepare us for whatever is his will 
in the new one that is approaching. And though the 
fig-tree should not blossom, nor any fruit be found on 
the vine, and the flocks should be cat off from the stall, 
yet may we rejoice in the God of our salvation. Come 
and let us return unto the Lord ; for he hath torn and 
he will heal us ; he hath smitten, and he will bind us 
up. After two days he will revive us ; in the third day 
he shall raise us up, and we shall live in his sight." 



APPEAL TO PARENTS WHO ARE NOT PROFESSORS OP 

RELIGION. 

Irreligious, but bereaved parents,— after all, what 
avails the safety of the departed to you ? While hope 



160 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

for your own soul holds aloof so far— while the appeals 
of mercy are repeated in vain—- while conscience tells 
so fully, and so truly, that the offer of salvation has 
ever been tendered in vain — what boots the rest ? 
What is it to you that the hope of a glorious resurrec- 
tion enters the dark and dank habitation of the little 
one ? You meet again : but if there be a single feel- 
ing of horror above all others to our present conception, 
it is that of the ending of a natural and social law, at 
the judgment seat of God. It is that of a law of af- 
fection availing nothing. Your little one became the 
property of Jesus — not by virtue of any prayer of faith 
that you had uttered — not by a free-will offering that 
you had made — but by that blood of atonement you 
have thrust so often from you — by that distinguishing 
grace whose attractions were too faint for your eye. 

Yet you have watched by the bed of the departing 
spirit of infancy ; and you have caught the last sigh, 
as the soul winged its passage from earth. And even 
the loneliness of that sad moment seemed broken by 
an admonition — " Father !" — " Mother !" — " come 
away !" You heard — you thought — eternity neared 
— earth interposed — and you returned to its bosom 
again. 

Impenitent, but bereaved parent ! — When a future 
world, in some hour of reflection, flings its shadow over 
your path ; and, despite of all your efforts, presses its 
realities upon your attention, remember — that no bond 
of parental love may abide hereafter, when the frown 
of an offended God settles the destiny of the lost, and 
the only relationship that exists, is that of the family 
of Christ. 

If the tender mercies of the Saviour were too little 
engaging to win your admiration — if the worth of 
your own soul has not entered into your thoughts of 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 161 

the future — behold what an argument is furnished by 
an afflictive dispensation ! You loved the departed. 
To that very affection a most solemn providence of 
God has appealed. It bids you gaze from earth to 
Heaven. It reminds you of the abode of glorified 
spirits. It admonishes you to inquire, " am I also 
ready ?" It intimates most earnestly and clearly, that 
the only true consolation which ever succeeds the stroke 
of sorrow, must be connected with a reconciliation to 
God, and an humble hope in the Redeemer's blood. 
Let these be yours, and your peace will be independent 
of the precarious tenure of human life. Faith shall 
scatter the darkness, and explain the mystery, so rea- 
dily attendant on affliction. You shall look up from 
the tomb to the late object of your solicitude and care. 
You shall exclaim with a confidence sure and steadfast, 
— " though he shall not return to me" — " I shall go 

TO HIM !" 

Have any of you lost children who are not your- 
selves pious ? The mind of each of those children 
has been unfolding in heaven, and has probably grown 
fester than if on earth. It has been made acquainted 
with its relation to you, and perhaps it watches every 
soul that comes up from earth to heaven, to greet its 
father or mother. Soon you must appear at the bar 
of God. You may there have an interview with your 
child ; and suppose that you are there separated from 
that spirit who has been growing in the knowledge of 
God and of the universe, anticipating the delightful 
employment of telling you about heaven, and leading 
you among its glorified society, and along its celestial 
plains ! 

Perhaps you have a little family there, expecting 

14* 



162 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

your arrival. Can you bear the thought of being sep- 
arated from them in eternity ? 

Are you an impenitent parent ? and have you im- 
penitent children who are growing up without religion ? 
and has God taken away one or more of your children 
in infancy or early life ? Perhaps it was because He 
saw that your example or neglect would ruin all the 
family, if they lived to grow up, and He has therefore 
rescued some of them from destruction by an early 
death. 

But let the joy of meeting those that have gone to 
heaven excite you to save your own soul and the souls 
of your surviving children. Then, though you mourn 
over their early graves, you shall not sorrow as they 
that have no hope. " Them that sleep in Jesus will 
God bring with Him." Their early death may prove, 
if you are saved, a source of the richest joy and of 
praise ! 



" He is not here." 

Not at his grave, bereaved mother, weep ; 
He is not here ! 

First wipe away each tear, 
And faith shall show thy clearer eyes 
A star to guide thee where thy young child lies, 

As safe in heaven, and dear 
As when thou smiled'st on him in his sleep. 



u The sting of death is sin. 11 

Mourn not o'er early graves — for those 
Removed whilst only buds are shown, 

For God, who sow'd and watered, knows 
The time to gather in his own. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 163 

This blossom knows no winter's breath 
Sheltered beneath the Almighty wing ; 

And though it felt the stroke of death, 
Blest babe ! it never knew its sting. 



u The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken? 1 

A child of wrath — a child of grace — 

In Heaven a smiling cherub now ! 
And all within a month's brief space : 

Oh, sweet and blessed babe ! wert Thou. 
Sent but to gladden and to grieve ! 

(Oh, thus our mourning hearts rebel !) 
Why sent — why taken — we beliere 

Our babe, when next we meet, shall tell. 



* I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me. u 

While sickness rent thine infant frame, 

Before our God we wept and prayed ; 
But when his heavenly summons came, 

Fond nature struggled, and obeyed. 
We laid thee in thy early rest, 

And changed the burden of our pray'r : 
May he who took thee to the blest, 

But make thee our forerunner there I 



Not for the babe that sleepeth here 
My tears bestow, my sorrows give,- 

Pass on, and weep with grief sincere 
For those who innocence outlive. 



" Take now thy son, thine only son, whom thou lovest" 

If of our best and dearest God demands, 
We yield the grave, with unreluctant hands, 
Our best and dearest, striving to submit 
To any sacrifice which he deems fit — 
He will forgive the tears — reversed our doom- 
Since weeping parents build their children's tomb. 



164 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



It is well with the child. 

It is well ! — nor would we our babe recall, 
And soothing and sweet are the tears that fall ; — 
But a few brief pangs on his mother's breast, 
And we laid him down in his holy rest ; 
Ere the world its snares around him threw, — 
Or its sins and its cares he ever knew. 

It is well ! since the Saviour's word is given, 
That of such as our child is the host of heaven ! 
No struggle for him, — no doubts or fears, 
His young cheek spared repentant tears. 
It is well ! and we " bear" and adore " the rod, 5) 
For the wielding hand was the hand of God. 



" Let him do what seemeth Him good" 

Instincts, affections, must lie still — 
In meek obedience to God's will. 
Oh, give me children or I die, 

Impatient Rachel sighed : 
Granted, but punished, was the cry — 

She travailed and she died. 



" Of such is the kingdom of heaven" 

Thou purified for heaven, oh, say- 
Shall we thy early death deplore? 

No, let us rather bless the day 
That gave to God an angel more. 



" Weep not for me, but for yourselves. 11 

Much as we loved thee — to our bitter cost 
Alas, how much, we knew not till we lost ! — 

Oh, say not lost ! the dead in Jesus sleep ; 
And not for them, but for ourselves, we weep. 



CHAPTER VII. 

SHORTER SELECTIONS IN PROSE. 

Flowers, nourish'd by my tears, I wreath for you, — 
Sweet, stainless flowers : 

Come lay them on your heart, 
Their cool, damp leaves will lull its fever pulse, 
With balm from heaven. 

L. H. Sigourney. 



In the hour of grief the mind may not be able to fol- 
low the train of argument by which the doctrine of the 
salvation of infants, dying such, is established. To ac- 
commodate this little monitor to the situation of those 
whom it addresses, a number of detached thoughts are 
added, which, like stars, may throw their twinkling 
radiance over the gloom of sorrow, and irradiate its 
darkness by their heavenly consolation. 



GOD IS NOT DEAD. 

There lived in the east of Scotland, a pious clergy- 
man, who had presided for a number of years, over a 
small but respectable congregation. In the midst of 
his active career of usefulness, he was suddenly remo- 
ved by death, leaving behind him a wife and a number 
of helpless children. 

The small stipend allowed him by his congregation, 
had been barely sufficient to meet the current expenses 
of his family ; and at his death no visible means were 
left for their support. The death of her husband prey- 



166 solace for bereaved parents. 

ed deeply upon the heart of the poor afflicted widow, 
while the dark prospect which the future presented, fill- 
ed her mind with the most gloomy apprehensions. By 
her lonely fireside she sat — the morning after her sad 
bereavement — lamenting her forlorn and destitute con- 
dition, when her little son, a boy of five years of age, 
entered the room. Seeing the deep distress of his moth- 
er, he stole softly to her side? and placing his little hand 
in hers, looked wistfully into her face, and said : " Moth- 
er, mother, is God dead T Soft as the gentle whisper 
of an angel, did the simple accent of the dear boy fall 
upon the ear of the disconsolate, and almost heart bro- 
ken mother. A gleam of heavenly radiance lighted up, 
for a moment, her pale features. Then snatching up 
her little boy, and pressing him fondly to her bosom, 
she exclaimed : " No, no, my son, God is not dead ; he 
lives, and has promised to be a father to the fatherless, 
a husband to the widow. His promises are sure and 
steadfast, and upon them I will firmly and implicitly 
rely." Her tears were dried, and her murmurings for- 
ever hushed. The event proved that her confidence 
was not misplaced. The congregation over whom her 
husband had worthily presided, generously settled upon 
her a handsome annuity, by which she was enabled to 
support her family, not only comfortably, but even gen- 
teelly. The talents of her sons, as they advanced in 
years, soon brought them into notice, and finally pro- 
cured them high and honourable stations in society. 



Your child, though dead, is still, bereaved parents, 
yours. " God has given me three sons," writes the Rev. 
Oliver Hey wood in his meditations, " all living, only 
the youngest lives with God, in his immediate presence, 
having died in infancy under the covenant.' 
* Works, Vol. i. p. 207. 



»* 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 167 

" Infants are as capable of regeneration as grown 
persons, and there is abundant reason to conclude, that 
all those who have not lived to commit actual transac- 
tions, though they share in the effects of the first 
Adam's offence, will also share in the blessings of the 
second Adam's gracious covenant, without their per- 
sonal faith and obedience, but not without the regener- 
ating influence of the Spirit of God upon their souls."* 



If the salvation of infants were pleaded for, on the 
ground of something meritorious in them, or even on the 
ground of what is called negative goodness, then there 
were just ground for objection; but on no such princi- 
ple is the argument here rested. It is only pleaded, that 
the Scriptures have distinguished between those of the 
human race, who have sinned after the similitude of 
Adam's transgression, and those who have not, — that 
God, of his abundant goodness, has extended to the 
whole of the latter the blessings of redemption, and that 
He has commanded the gospel to be preached to the 
former, and has declared, that whosoever believeth it 
shall be saved, and whosoever believeth not shall 
be condemned. The distinction between relative and 
personal blame, is not introduced to show, that in- 
fants who are involved only in the former, have a right 
to salvation, but to show that there is an analogy be- 
tween the way in which men came to be treated as sin- 
ners, and that in which they came to be treated as 
righteous, and to explain the principles of the present 
dispensation, both as an economy of moral government, 
and an economy of Sovereign goodness, — the former 
accounting for the principles on which adults shall at 
last be judged, and the latter communicating grace to 

* Scott, on Matt- xix. 13—15, 



168 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

all who never were the subjects of the other. And if, 
for reasons worthy of himself, the Almighty has deter- 
mined that all dying in infancy shall be saved, what is 
this dispensation but a part of the general plan of re- 
demption, through unmerited and Sovereign favour? 
Never can a dispensation designed to illustrate His 
grace, be in the least inconsistent with that very attri- 
bute. 



Hear a Christian say after burying his child, " And 
now one of our family is gone to take possession of the 
sepulchre in all our names. Ere long I shall lie down 
with my child. — It is a warning of Providence, that 
these concluding days of my life may be more regular, 
more spiritual, more useful, than the former." 



" The hope of their being transplanted into a more 
salutary clime, there to rebloom in everlasting vigour ; 
and the reflection, that if they had been spared, they 
had been unavoidably exposed to innumerable tempta- 
tions, from which, if our lives were spared, we should 
yet be unable to screen them, ought to settle our 
minds." 

Yes, there is a pleasure in seeing them safe before us, 
instead of leaving them exposed to temptation and sin. 



THE INFANT'S GRAVE. 

The wife of the missionary, who came home last 
spring, brought with her from the foreign country 
where she had been long a sojourner, three noble boys. 
But they were not all her children. Her youngest was 
not with her. Did he sleep, then, under the stately 
mimosa, or the beautiful palm-tree — beneath the sha- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 169 

dow of the church raised to the name of the Christian's 
God in the land of Idols? There, perhaps, his swar- 
thy nurse sits on his grave, and tells how the gentle 
white lady devoted her child to her Saviour in baptism, 
and found comfort when he died, and how she, poor 
heathen as she had been, had learnt submission from 
the Christian's book ; and now, having faith in Christ, 
lived in the calm hope of meeting again those her kind 
instructors, and that her foster-son. No ! the mission- 
ary's child is not buried there ; he died on the voyage 
home ; he was buried in the deep sea ; so neither nurse 
nor mother may look upon his grave ; but his little cof- 
fin was made as neatly as circumstances permitted, and 
the ceremony of his funeral was conducted with all 
that attention to order and propriety which it is the last 
comfort of our survivors to pay. All the children, and 
there were many on board, beside his own little bro- 
thers, went on deck, and stood round the corpse whilst 
the beautiful service was read ; and it was solemnly 
and affectionately read, by the beloved friend and fel- 
low-labourer, who had been a stranger with them in 
the strange land. It was sad to be obliged to take the 
last look at the dear child, even before " the first day 
of death w T as fled." There was something inexpres- 
sibly melancholy in the plunge with which the lost 
treasure sunk down, deeper and deeper, to the depths 
which no line has sounded ! and the waves rolled on, 
and the gallant ship hastened on her course, so that 
the eye of man might never again know the place of 
his rest. But " thou, Lord, art the hope of them that 
remain in the broad sea !" So thought his mother 
while she wept in silence ; but she looked for the resur- 
rection of the body, when the sea shall give up her 
dead, and she was calm. — Scenes in our Parish, 

15 



170 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

If it has seemed meet to God, that the allotted three 
score years and ten should be spent rather in heaven 
than on earth, is there any reason for inconsolable an- 
guish ? Our departed infants have attained the end 
of their creation, so that there is no reason for saying", 
"Why were they brought forth for the tomb?" How 
animating the thought, that those powers which were 
but beginning to unfold themselves, are now expanding, 
and employed amid the glories of the heavenly par- 
adise. 



While the Christian parent is consoled by the 
thought, that his departed children have been washed 
in the blood of the Lamb ; he rejoices also in the faith, 
that the same blood can cleanse away all his own man- 
ifold and aggravated sins. Are not irreligious parents, 
then, solemnly admonished by what is said of their 
deceased infant offspring, to seek deliverance through 
the same atonement and resurrection, which have 
opened to the latter the kingdom of heaven. What a 
mercy, if the death of the child prove the life of the 
parent ; by leading the latter to seek for consolation> 
where alone it can be had. And, oh ! what a blessing, 
when, after wearying themselves seeking rest, and find- 
ing none, the eyes of the unhappy are opened to perceive 
the well of life, and their ears to hear the melodious 
sounds of that message, which calms the alarm occa- 
sioned by guilt, and soothes the sorrows of the afflicted 
sufferer. It is the Gospel alone which at once brings 
us to God, and, as it were r restores to us our friends. 

How dreadful the thought, when properly realized, 
that if bereaved, unbelieving parents continue strangers 
to the power of the Gospel, they and their children are 
separated for ever. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 171 



THE BEREAVED MOTHER. 

" A mother's sorrow cannot be conceived but by a mother." 

Hannah More. 

I marked a mother at the tomb of her son. Her sa- 
ble garment coincided with the deep gloom that hung 
heavily around her heart. Her declining head, her 
closed clasped hands, her fixed position, her tear-be- 
dewed cheek, bespoke the intensity of her thoughts, 
and the sorrow of her soul. The scene struck the 
strings of sympathy, and a correspondent tear, flowing 
from the impulse of a similar feeling, trickled down my 
cheek. — Fancy lent her creative power to my mind, and 
methought I heard and felt the grief-inspired soliloquy 
of the heart-broken mother, as she revolved in her de- 
pressed mind the following thoughts : " Ah ! yes, my 
child, thou art numbered with the dead ! — The curtain 
of my hopes has suddenly dropped, and the thick cloud 
of soul-rending despondency shuts the light of joy and 
tranquillity from my mind. When feeble infancy was 
thine, with what rapture I watched the pleasurable 
smile playing on thy health-flushed cheeks: it was 
then my heart bounded with ecstacy, and antedated 
the joys of youth and the happiness of manhood. I 
thought thou wouldst have been the pillar of my old 
age ; I thought thou wouldst have supported my tot- 
tering declining life, when the extinguished hand of 
time had quenched the fervour of vitality. But ah ! 
these love-built hopes are gone for ever ; they are bu- 
ried in the humid earth with thee. No more I hear thy 
voice — no more I mark thy sprightly eye ; thy voice is? 
as silent as the grave, and thine eye fixed by the rigid 
power of death. Scarce more than eighteen months 
had rolled around thy head before the " grim monster" 
came and snatched thee from the world, Thou wert 



172 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

stricken as the tender sapling scathed by the light- 
ning's fiery bolt. O Death ! thou art the destroyer of a 
mother's bliss. But still, amid all my sorrow, I will 
say, 

" Worms may banquet on that frame, 

And ruin feed on what was fair : 
Back to the skies from whence it came 

The soul recalled shall flourish there." 

With these words she ended ; and taking her little 
daughter by the hand, she slowly retired.* 



Suppose, now, there should be a mother, always 
uneasy and solicitous about her child, when it was in 
health, or sitting over it when in sickness, restless and 
anxious, trying this remedy, and that, without reason 
and without hope, just because she cannot give him up ; 
— suppose, I say, that God should come to the bedside, 
and say to her, " Anxious mother, — I was taking care 
of your child, but since you are so restless and uneasy 
about it, I will give the case up to you, if you will take 
it. There is a great question to be decided; — shall 
that child recover or die ? I was going to decide it in 
the best way for yourself and him. But since you 
cannot trust me, you may decide it yourself. Look 
upon him, then, as he lies there suffering, and then 
look forward as far as you can into futurity ; see as 
much as you can of his life here, if you allow him to 
live ; and look forward to eternity, — to his eternity and 
yours. Get all the light you can, and then tell me 
whether you are really ready to take the responsibility 
of deciding the question, whether he shall live or die. 
Since you are not willing to allow me to decide it, I 
will leave you to decide it yourself." 

* Influence of Mothers, p. 132. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 173 

What would be the feelings of a mother, if God 
should thus withdraw from the sick bed of her child, 
and leave the responsibility of the case in her hands 
alone ! Who would dare to exercise the power, if the 
power were given, or say to a dying child, " you shall 
live and on me shall be the responsibility ?" Then let 
us all leave to God to decide. Let us be wise and pru- 
dent, and faithful in all our duties, but never, for a 
moment, indulge in an anxious thought ; — it is rebel- 
lion. Let us rather throw ourselves on God. Let us 
say to him, that we do not know what is best, either 
for us, or our children, and ask him to do with us just 
as he pleases. Then we shall be at peace at all 
times, — when disease makes its first attack, — when 
the critical hours approach, by which the question of 
life or death is to be decided, and even when the last 
night of the little patients sufferings has come, and we 
see the vital powers gradually sinking, in their fearful 
struggle with death.* 



One day, whilst the lady of Sir Stamford Raffles 
was almost overwhelmed with grief for the loss of a 
favourite child, unable to bear the sight of her other 
children — unable to bear even the light of day — hum- 
bled upon her couch, with a feeling of misery ; she was 
addressed by a poor, ignorant, uninstructed, native 
woman, of the lowest class, who had been employed 
about the nursery, in terms of reproach not to be for- 
gotten. " I am come because you have been here 
many days shut up in a dark room, and no one dares 
to come near you. Are you not ashamed to grieve in 
this manner, when you ought to be thanking God for 

• Abbott's " Way to do good," p. 108. s 

IK* 



174 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

having given you the most beautiful child that ever 
was seen ? Did any one ever see him, or speak of him 
without admiring him ? And instead of letting this 
child continue in this world till he should be worn out 
with trouble and sorrow, has not God taken him to 
Heaven in all his beauty? What -would you have 
more ? For shame ! — leave off weeping, and let me 
open a window." 



We may lament as an incurable evil, what God 
may esteem an invaluable good. Hence we may 
labour to defeat an event, to accomplish which, all the 
attributes of Omnipotence are embarked. Our prayers 
and energies may be excited to agony in warding off a 
storm, which, it is his purpose, shall come down upon 
us in all its fury. We watch at the couch of a lan- 
guishing child ; our life is bound up in his ; if it die, it 
seems to us that God must design to undo us ; and yet, 
perhaps, that child was given us that it might die in 
our arms, and be the means of our sanctification.* 



A HEATHEN FATHER AND HIS CHILD. 

Shagdur, a convert among the Moguls in Siberia, 
having lost his little son, addressed the following letter 
to Mr. Swan the Missionary : 

My Dear Sir,— While you and I are, by the mer- 
ciful providence of our Lord Jesus Christ, alive and in 
health, I desire to lay one little matter before you. It 
pleased God to give me a little son ; and it has now 
pleased him to remove the child from me. Every day 
I think that one member of my body has been taken 

* Clark's Works, vol, i. p. 29& 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 175 

to heaven ; and this thought is like a sweet savour in 
my heart. And when I think of my dear child as 
one of the countless assembly who are singing the 
praises of Christ in heaven, my heart longs to go up 
and join them : but although the child, a part of my- 
self, is separated from me, I hope, through my Sav- 
iour's power and mercy, one day to meet him in glory. 

Now, sir, when my little William was born, the 
neighbours came in, bearing to him gifts ; some gave 
one copeck, (about one tenth of a penny;) some two; 
in all, forty copecks. When the child died, I did not 
know what to do with this money ; but, at length, a 
thought came to me, which gave joy to my heart ; and 
about this I write these few lines. 

Among the many letters which go to make up the 
words contained in the New Testament, printed for the 
instruction of the heathen nations, Tonilgaksha* is 
often repeated. Now, although these forty copecks 
may not be sufficient for more than the dot over the 
letter i, in the word Tonilgakshi, I beg of you to ac- 
cept of my little William's money for that purpose. — ■ 
Dear Sir, do not refuse it. I have not given it to you, 
but I have given it to print a dot over a letter in the 
name of my Saviour ; and may this be a little memo- 
rial of my infant, for the benefit of my dear friends who 
are without Christ. I remain your scholar, 

SHAGDUR, THE SON OF KeMUAH. 

Mr. Swan makes good use of this affecting inci- 
dent ; he writes — 

I hope the foregoing letter may meet the eye of 
many a bereaved parent to whom it may not have oc» 
curred to present to the Lord, in the form of an offering 
to His Cause, whatever belonged to some dear departed 

* i. e. Jesus Christ, 



176 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

child; or whatever they had destined as that child's 
portion, had the Lord been pleased to continue it to 
their embraces. And, perhaps, the reading of this sim- 
ple effusion of a heart but lately emerged from the deg- 
radation of a heathen state, and which has found a 
sweet solace under its bereavement in devoting the 
child's mite to the Lord, may induce some to go and do 
likewise. Some may be able far to surpass this offer- 
ing ; some parents may present, as having belonged to 
some dear departed infant, what may be enough to 
print, not merely the dots over a letter, but the whole 
of the Saviour's precious name in some Heathen lan- 
guage, — others, a whole verse—others, an entire book, 
—others, an edition of the New Testament, or of the 
whole Bible. 



STORY FROM THE MISHNA OF THE RABBINS. 

During the absence of Rabbi Meir from his house, 
his two sons died, both of them of uncommon beauty 
and enlightened by the law. His wife bore them to 
her chamber, laid them upon the bed, and spread a 
white covering over their bodies. When Rabbi Meir 
returned, his first inquiry was for his sons. Hjs wife 
reached to him a goblet ; he praised the Lord at the 
going out of the Sabbath, drank, and again asked, 
" Where are my sons, that they too may drink of the 
cup of blessing ?" 

" They will not be far off," she replied, and placed 
food before him that he might eat. He was in a glad- 
some and genial mood ; and when he had said grace, 
after the meal, she thus addressed him : " Rabbi, with 
thy permission, I would fain propose to thee one ques- 
tion." 

w Ask it then, my love," replied he. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 177 

"A few days ago a person entrusted some jewels to 
my custody, and now he demands them ; should I give 
them back to him ?" 

" This is a question," said Rabbi Meir, " which my 
wife should not have thought it necessary to ask. 
What ! would'st thou hesitate or be reluctant to restore 
to every one his own V 

"No," she replied, " but yet I thought it best not to 
restore them without acquainting thee therewith." She 
then led him to their chamber, and stepping to the bed, 
took the white covering from the dead bodies. 

" Ah ! my sons, my sons !" loudly lamented their 
father, " my sons ! the light of my eyes, and the light 
of my understanding. I was your father — but ye were 
my teachers in the law." 

The mother turned away and wept bitterly. At 
length, she took the husband by the hand and said, 
" Rabbi, did'st thou not teach me that we must not be 
reluctant to restore that which was entrusted to our 
keeping ? See, the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken 
away, and blessed be the name of the Lord !" 

" Blessed be the name of the Lord !" echoed the holy 
man ; " and blessed be his glorious name forever." 



A CHRISTIAN PARENT'S REFLECTIONS ON THE DEATH 
% OF A CHILD. 

The bills of mortality show that more than half the 
human race die in infancy and childhood. As God 
then gave us five children, and has now taken away 
three, we are not to think ourselves more hardly dealt 
with than others ; especially as these dear little ones 
have doubtless entered upon a good exchange. There 
is much in the consideration, that so many immortal 
human beings are just shown to this world, and^ so 



178 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

quickly removed into another. They are as those plants 
which are gathered and housed the moment they are in 
season ; while others, who arrive at maturer age, are 
as the fewer plants, which, being left for seed, remain 
longer out in wind and weather. What pains one's 
natural feelings most is, that we so much miss the delight 
that we have enjoyed in the lovely innocent ways of a thri- 
ving child. But even this is made up for the sure and 
certain prospect of what is far better. We do not re- 
gret the fall of the sweet and delightful blossoms of our 
plants and trees, though they soon drop off in such mul- 
titudes, because the fruit which succeeds is attended 
with more substantial enjoyment. Had we had no 
such chil£ born to us a year ago, it is true we should 
not have been in our present sorrow ; but having attend- 
ed it this day to its grave, we are temporarily in the 
same situation as if we had never possessed it. And 
yet we can count it gain to be able to reckon on one 
more child of our own in heaven. It therefore was 
neither " made for naught," nor brought into the world 
in vain, nor has the care we expended on it been thrown 
away. And now that such care has ceased, and our 
responsibility with it, we have the more leisure to at- 
tend to the one thing needful, and to direct to this great 
object, in a more undivided manner, the attention of 
our two surviving children. 



THE GRAVE OF MY CHILD. 

The sweet month has again returned — the first of 
the summer months — which will ever be remembered 
by me as the season when my cherished one sickened 
and died. If not a father, reader, you may pass on, 
though I should delight to detain you near my little 
daughter's grave for a few moments. But if the pulse 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 179 

of parental love has ever had vitality in your bosom, I 
need not apologize. My feelings, my sympathies, my 
joys, and sorrows are yours. Two years have now 
elapsed since that day when death first entered my 
family. The whole scene rushes vividly before the 
mind, showing how deep and strong was the impression 
then made. The first attack of the insidious disease 
— the promise of recovery — then the relapse — the in- 
cessant anxieties — the unsleeping vigils — the anguish 
of the helpless sufferer — her sweet submission to the 
will of God — her triumph over death and the grave — 
in a word, the succession of emotions, that like wave 
after wave, swept across our bosoms, while life hung in 
fearful uncertainty, all these are engraven as with the 
point of a diamond on the table of the memory. Nor 
would we erase them. It is not a mere dream of the 
poet's imagination, that there is " luxury in grief.'' 
This idea is true to nature. Not, indeed, that the pain 
is not intense, when those chords of the heart are struck, 
which are the very seat of the most exquisite sensibili- 
ty, but that pain is mellowed and hallowed by some 
mysterious influence, flowing from the inexhaustible 
fountain of infinite benevolence. The heart lingers too 
much round these visible scenes. " She goeth to the 
grave to weep there." Oh, why did she not look up 7 
Contemplations that are bounded only by the limits of 
the grave are less fitted to minister consolation to afflic- 
tion, than nutriment to sorrow, even that "sorrow of 
the world that worketh death." If the soul, in the tu- 
mult of its grief, will but pause a moment, and listen, it 
will soon hear a voice saying, " I am the Resurrection 
and the Life. He that believeth in me, though he 
were dead, yet shall he live, and he that liveth and be- 
lieveth in me, shall never die." This changes the en- 
tire scene. It is no more sight, but faith. What a 



180 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

world of wonders does faith unfold to the view ! Now, 
we can see the ransomed spirit, not as it is oppressed 
with doubt and agonized with suffering, but spreading 
the unclogged wings of its Love, and expatiating with 
rapture amid scenes of heavenly beauty and songs of 
seraphic melody. Who would be so cruel as to call that 
spirit back again to be soiled with the dust of earth ; to 
re-endure its sorrows ; to be again endangered by its 
fascinations ; flattered with its illusions ; distracted 
with its cares, and deceived by its promises ? Is it not 
better for the soul to find " its long sought rest," to be 
disrobed of its earthly mantle ; to enter the pure and 
perfect society of the blessed ; to dwell where Holiness 
holds its court ; where angels tune their harps ; where 
the redeemed swell the high anthem of praise to the 
exalted Lamb ; where it will never be interrupted in 
that worship, which was the original privilege and the 
delicious employment of the soul, " created in the image 
of God ?" 

REaUIESCAT IN PEACE. 

Here then is the dust of my child. Let it rest in 
peace. Many a sweet spring shall put forth its blos- 
soms in sight of this early grave, but my little flower 
will remain crushed within its dark bosom. Many a 
gay summer will shed its beauty around the scene, and 
the bright colours of autumn will illumine yonder 
woodlands, but in this world my loved one will never 
smile again ! Oh the inexorable despotism of death ! 
Oh the iron-hearted sovereignty of the grave ! The 
thought is almost insupportable. But again, Religion 
teaches us to lift our eyes from the ashes of the dead 
to the region of pure, ethereal existence, of spiritual 
love, of unsullied holiness, and uninterrupted happiness. 
Nay, this must be the very object of dispensations like 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 181 

these, to summon the mind to the contemplation of its 
superior good, and to attract the heart towards the cen- 
tre of every pure affection ; the supreme object of love 
and adoration to every holy being. Then let these 
things come in their time. They come not by chance. 
Inspiration eloquently teaches us that they " come not 
of the dust, nor spring out of the ground." It tells us 
that " life is a vapour." How many parents can attest it ! 

" She came and passed. Can we forget 
How we, whose hearts had hailed her birth, 
Ere four autumnal suns has set, 
Consigned her to her mother Earth % 
Joys and their memory pass away, 
But griefs are deeper ploughed than they !" 

Heaven will equalize all ! The soul that breathes its 
aspiration for such perfection, can never receive amiss 
what Heaven sends. 

A Father. 



TO A BEREAVED MOTHER. 

" I feel for you, dear Madam, in the loss you have 
felt ; but more especially, as there appeared something 
of a doubt, whether you could say, with full assurance, 
the child is blessed. I have known several Christians 
troubled with doubts on this head; and few things 
have appeared to me more strange ; for, we may say 
with truth, what could God have done more than he 
has done, to prove his love for the infants of the hu- 
man race ? They were always admitted to be mem- 
bers of his Church. A regard for them, he mentions 
as a reason why Nineveh, in which were so many 
thousand infants, should not, as Jonah desired, be de- 
stroyed. Our Lord says, " Suffer little children to come 
unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the king- 

16 



182 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

dom of God." A great part of mankind die in infan- 
cy, before they have done any good or evil ; and the 
Saviour declares, that of such little children the king- 
dom of God is made up ; and as a token of this, he 
took the little children that were brought him up in 
his arms, and blessed them, Mark x. They die, by 
virtue of their connection with Adam in his first trans- 
gression ; but having done neither good nor evil, in 
their own persons, they will not be judged according to 
the deeds done in the body, nor fall under the sentence 
of the second death, which is pronounced only upon 
personal wicked deeds ; but being redeemed by the 
blood of Christ, and written in the Lamb's book of 
life, they shall be raised up from the first death, which 
came by Adam, to the enjoyment of eternal life in the 
heavenly kingdom. — I repeat it, not a soul is destroyed 
forever, but for wicked works ; they are hypocrites, 
they are unbelievers, they are impenitent to the last, 
after warnings, admonitions, and calls, who perish. 
But what works have infants done that are evil? The 
Scripture expressly mentions, that they have not sinned 
after the similitude of Adam's transgression, but never 
that they suffer the pains of hell. Now, can such a 
thought be reconciled with the character of God, drawn 
by himself, as " slow to anger, and of great kindness ;" 
as swearing, he hath no pleasure in the death of a sin- 
ner ? It is his strange act to punish. Nothing but a 
contention against his government to the last, an im- 
pious denial of his Gospel, or a base, hypocritical as^ 
sent to it, draws down his vengeance. Be assured, 
from such evidence, our dear children, taken away al- 
most as soon as we see them, are safe in the hands of 
their merciful Creator and Redeemer. I hope you are 
ready to say, with the late excellent Mr. Black, (one of 
the ministers of Edinburgh,) who thus expressed him-* 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 183 

self on the death of his child, — " It is the Lord, let 
him do what seemeth him good; it is his will. Our 
dear child is now, I trust, with Christ in heaven, joined 
to her kindred spirits around the throne. What a mar- 
vellous change ! — what a glorious transition ! — from a 
sick-bed to a throne of glory ; from weeping friends to 
glorified spirits ; from a world of sin and suffering, to a 
world of perfect holiness, and endless blessedness ! How 
inconceivable the expansion of faculties that must take 
place in the case of an infant, on its first entrance into 
the unseen world ! It is an almost overwhelming 
thought, that our sweet babe already knows more than 
the most perfect saint on earth. Let my soul bless 
God, that I have been honoured as the instrument of 
bringing into existence one who is now added to the 
Redeemer's company above. Soon shall the last trum- 
pet sound, and the sleeping dust of countless genera- 
tions awake to life. I shall then see my dear child ; 
not the feeble infant which she appeared on earth, but 
a glorified saint, conformed to the image of her blessed 
Lord. A glorious hope !" 

" This consideration, dear Madam, should dry up 
your tears. Your child is now with God, infinitely 
more happy than you could have made her on earth, — 
infinitely more happy than you can conceive ; and if 
you, and your husband, are followers of them who, 
by faith and patience, inherit the promises, and of Jesus 
Christ, the author and finisher of faith, you shall one 
day meet with her amidst the redeemed company, 
where you shall never more part ; and where " there 
shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, 
neither shall there be any more pain ; for the former 
things are passed away." — Rev. xxi. 4.* 

* R«y, & & Simpsoa of Dublin, 



184 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 



TO PARENTS BEREAVED OF A CHILD. 

Extract from a Manuscript Letter of the Rev. Mr. Sckauffler of Con- 
stantinople. 

On the subject of Infant Salvation, I have no doubt, 
I have had it in view to write something more thor- 
oughgoing upon this subject than I have yet seen in 
print, but my multiplied engagements do not permit 
it. Suppose the dear Infants all in Heaven. What a 
glorious victory has been already achieved over the 
world of darkness ! Already more souls saved than 
lost ! What depth of meaning those passages of Scrip- 
ture at once assume which speak of infants, " Out of 
the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected 
praise." " Suffer little children to come unto me and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." 
" Their angels do always behold the face of my Father 
in heaven." " Christ is the propitiation for the sins of 
the whole world" — only " those who believe not shall 
be damned." And around the conception, birth, and 
infancy of Christ a new and glorious light shines, while 
the bodily sufferings in which infants also share, and 
which show them to belong to a sinful race, bring them 
under some unalterable moral laws, (John xii. 24,) 
which have immediate reference to life and salvation. 
However, to understand these subjects, I am satisfied 
it is necessary to have looked into the graves of darling 
children. The night of affliction reveals to our won- 
dering view the starry firmament of divine love, and 
divine truths, and the promises given to mourning 
souls, can be felt and understood by mourners alone. 

It seems to me, we need infant choirs in heaven, to 
make up full concert to the angelic symphony. Who 
will sing like unto them, of the manger, and the swad- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 185 

dling clothes, and of the Lord of all, drawing nourish- 
ment from the bosom of mortal mothers ! True these 
are themes of infinite interest, and the delight and 
wonder of angels. But ah ! they are too tender for 
the Archangel's powerful trump — too tender for the 
thundering notes of seraphim and cherubim. We 
must have infant choirs in heaven. When on some 
Sunday School anniversary the multitude of little chil- 
dren come together, and after hearing some words of 
tender and affectionate exhortation and advice, they 
strike up their artless hymn, all the assembly is moved 
to tears and the single-hearted little ones carry away 
from the Masters in Israel the palm of eloquence ; and 
the thrill of their tender voices is felt vibrating in the 
hearts of those who heard them, when the most pow r - 
erful speeches are long forgotten. 

We must have Infant Choirs in Heaven ! And is it 
no privilege to know one of our dear ones among 
them ? What an interest does not a father or a moth- 
er feel in listening to the sweet voices of the children 
when they know their beloved child is among the hap- 
py songsters. And is it not incomparably more pre- 
cious to know them among the songsters in Heaven ! 
And oh ! with what additional interest, with what 
quickened anticipations do I now look beyond the 
grave ! I think of the moment when I shall fold my 
little ones to a father's bosom again and that forever, 
and tears of joy and gratitude flow down my cheeks 
involuntarily. Even now while I am writing, the 
voices of two of my children, is it possible ? — yes, of 
my children are singing praises unto Him who became 
a poor babe and a man of sorrows for them and for all 
men. O, let them sing then ! I can only wish to join 
them soon ! 

And now, your dear James has gone to unite with 



186 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

them. And while you read this, and it may be weep, 
he raises his growing notes of praise and gratitude to 
the Saviour of all men and learns in one minute more 
of God, and Christ, and Heaven, than you would ever 
have taught him in all your lives. Oh ! leave them 
there — all of them, and let us but become daily more 
heavenly-minded, and more ready to join the 

" Angels who stand round the throne, 
And view my Immanuel's face." 

And the— 

" Saints who stand nearer than they ! !" 

All those redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, 
and called close around the steps of His Throne to sing 
the song, — not of creation and providence only, but of 
redeeming love and sovereign grace. 



THE CHRISTIAN PARENT IN BEREAVEMENT. 

No sooner was its last struggle over, than the little 
corpse, with ashes put into its hand, was adorned again 
with clean linen, flowers, citrons, wreaths, &c., which, 
indeed, could only die and decay with it ; and which 
afforded but a poor and momentary agreeableness to 
the eye ; but how beautiful must that adorning be 
with which our heavenly Father clothes the soul in his 
own presence, in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and of his holy angels ! 

Our chief hindrance to entire resignation is, that we 
are so much addicted to things present and visible, 
while eternal realities are as yet so foreign to us, and 
so little known. But could we take one glance at the 
condition of a spirit thus departed, we should never re- 
gret and lament, as we are apt to do, the decease of rel- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 187 

atives and friends, but our grief would rather be on ac- 
count of the dim-sightedness of weeping survivors. 

Surely, when the door of paradise is opened to let in 
any of our departed friends, delicious breezes blow 
through it upon us from that abode of blessedness. 
And we ought to avail ourselves of such refreshing in- 
fluence ; we ought to let it quicken us in following after 
those who have gone before us, rather than wish those 
friends back again to a world like this. Who could 
ever think of congratulating any that have been enjoy- 
ing heavenly rest and security for ten, a hundred, or a 
thousand years together, upon their having to return 
back again to the perils and dangers of the present life ; 
Why, then, should we regard it as an affliction that any 
one of our number has escaped from such perils, and is 
only entered into perfect peace and security ? If a va- 
cancy has been made in the family circle, let it also be 
remembered that another vacancy has been filled up in 
heaven. The nearer we in this world are approaching 
to the end of all things, the more welcome should be 
the thought of dying ; because every departed Chris- 
tian finds that the multitude of the blessed is increas- 
ingly outnumbering the militant remnant ; and because 
the whole family of God are thus successively gather- 
ing in, that we may all be together for ever with the 
Lord.* 

Parents should feel in reference to the death of their 
children, as did a pious woman who, being ill, was ask- 
ed whether she were willing to live or die ? She an- 
swered, " which God pleaseth." " But," asked one of 
her friends, " if God should refer it to you, which would 

* From a Letter of Rev. J. A. BengeJ, after the death of a child. 



188 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



you choose V She replied, " Truly, if that were the 
case, I would even refer it to him again."* 

Thus leave your children in the hands of God, assu- 
red that he will order all things well, and that whether 
your child lives or dies it will be for its glory and your 
gain.t 



THE STAR IN THE EAST. 

In one of those quiet, secluded valleys of the Alps, 
near the lake's wild margin, embosomed by snow-crown- 
ed mountains, lies the little village of Geneva. In its 
midst stood the moss-covered cottage of Bolien. The 
departing radiance of a summer's sun played among 
the leaves of the flowers, and the mountains and tall 
trees were inverted in the pure waters, now stilled be- 
neath the deep blue sky of heaven. The windows 
of Bolien's cottage were thrown open, the curtains 
drawn aside, and there watched the wife of the faith- 
ful pastor over her dying child. Now she parted the 
damp curls from his brow, and then pressed her lips on 
his little cold fingers, which she held in her hand. 
Fervently the silent prayer ascended, that the night of 
sorrow might pass, and the storm of agony be stilled in 
her bosom ; then, as the babe turned restlessly in her 
lap, in a low tone she sung, 

Sleep, baby, sleep, 
Once more upon my breast, 
Thine aching head shall rest, 

In quiet sleep. 

Sleep, baby, sleep. 
Sweetly thine eye is closing, 

* Anecdote, Christian Graces, p. 163. Whitecross' Anecdotes on O. 
T. p. 374, vol. ii. 
t Carne's Letters from the East, vol. i. p. 146, and p. 180. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 189 

Calmly thou'rt now reposing, 

In slumber deep. 

Sleep, angel baby, sleep : 
Not in thy cradle bed 
Shall rest thy little head, 
But with the quiet dead, 

In dreamless sleep, 

As the mother looked on her boy, she saw that his 
little limbs were stiff with the icy chill of death. A 
smile was on the cherub face, and the long lashes were 
closed over the blue eyes. Sweet Babe ! no wonder 
that thy mother's heart is broken when she looks on 
her only child, — dead ! The kind-hearted villagers 
made a little grave among the trees, — and on the third 
day, when the morning sun shone upon the Alpine 
mountains, they took from the mother's bosom her lit- 
tle one, and laid it in the ground ; and then they looked 
along the narrow and wild defile of the mountain for 
their Pastor, w 7 ho had been some days absent. 

At evening the wife of Bolien sat alone in her cot- 
tage. She looked upon the lake. A beautiful light 
was on its waters. She raised her head. It was the 
star in the east ; and it came and stood over the place 
where the young child was. Upon her darkened soul 
it rose as the star of hope — the dawning of that light, 
which had been for a while withdrawn. u I shall re- 
joice in Him who was born King of the Jews, — for he 
hath gathered the sheep in his arms, — and he carries 
the lambs in his bosom," she exclaimed, — and her feel- 
ings were calmed, — her broken spirit found repose. 

That night the villagers welcomed their beloved Pas- 
tor. No one dared tell him his only son rested beneath 
the sods of the valley. As he passed from among 
them, into his own cottage, from which the little light 
was faintly gleaming, they uttered the heartfelt ben- 



190 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

ediction, " Peace be within this dwelling." The em- 
brace of the Pastor and his wife was close and affec- 
tionate, and then the eye of the father glanced on the 
cradle which stood in its accustomed place. " The 
baby sleeps," he said. " Blessed be God who has pre- 
served you both !" The mother turned to wipe the 
tears from her eyes, as she replied, "Yes, the baby 
sleeps, — you cannot wake him." — The fearful truth 
did not enter the mind of Bolien, and he seated him- 
self to partake of some simple refreshment which was 
set before him. " Your countenance is sad," he ex- 
claimed, as he looked upon the face of his wife. u Me- 
thinks your heart should be full of joy. What shall 
we render to the Lord for all his goodness !" The 
struggle in the countenance of the afflicted mother 
was too agonizing to escape the notice of Bolien, and, 
as he took her hand in his, he exclaimed, " Tell me, I 
beseech you, what has happened. Christianity I know 
is not secure, even among the Alpine valleys. It may- 
be, that we are yet to cross the mountains of ice and 
snow, and seek shelter from those who persecute us 
for righteousness sake. Tell me, what has befallen us, 
that you weep thus?" The eye of the heart-stricken 
mother glanced towards the cradle of her babe, and 
there needed no comment. The Pastor fell on his 
knees, and uttered, " Our child is dead /" — then bu- 
ried his face in his hands, and wept aloud. 

An hour passed, — and the Pastor and his wife min- 
gled their tears at the grave of their child. Sweetly 
did the star in the east shine on that little mound, — 
As Bolien uncovered his head, and gazed upward, he ex- 
claimed, " The Star of Bethlehem shall be our guide 
to that land which needeth no star to shine upon it ! 
for the glory of God shall lighten it ; and the Lamb is 
the light thereof!" 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 191 

We must enter into the designs of God, and try to 
receive the comforts that he bestows. We shall soon 
find him whom we seem to have lost ; we approach 
him with rapid strides. Yet a litle time and we shall 
shed no more tears. We shall die ourselves. Him whom 
we love lives, and will never die. This is what we be- 
lieve ; if we believe it rightly, we shall feel in respect to our 
friends as Jesus Christ wished that his disciples should 
feel with regard to him when he rose to heaven. " If 
you loved me," said he, " you would rejoice" in my 
glory. But we weep for ourselves. For a true friend 
of God, who has been faithful and humble, we can only 
rejoice at his happiness, and at the blessing that he has 
left upon those who belonged to him on earth. Let 
your grief then be soothed by the hand of him who 
has afflicted you.— Fenelon. 



Be reconciled, therefore, to the loss of your children. 
Ever remember they are loans entrusted to you, to be 
reclaimed hereafter, and you should always stand ready 
to acknowledge the debt, and pay it back again with a 
cheerful and composed mind. " The Lord gave, and 
he hath taken away ;" he lent, and he hath recalled 
the precious loan, " Blessed be the name of the Lord." 
This couplet should be written upon all your children : 

u The dear delights we here enjoy, 

And fondly call our own, 
Are but short favours borrowed now, 

To be returned anon." 

The Almighty permits you to have children, without 
any security for a continued possession. Be thankful 
for them while you enjoy them. Be humble and re- 
signed when he comes and calls for them. It was a 



192 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

noble saying of one of the ancients, upon the tidings of 
his son's death, " I knew that I begat a mortal." If, 
then, he takes your offspring away in infancy or child- 
hood, let this thought comfort you, that it is to render 
them more happy than you could make them. He 
takes them from a world of sin, to a world of satisfac- 
tion. They are taken from being dandled upon the 
knee, to be cherished in His bosom. The gems are 
taken from your cabinet, to be brilliantly set in the Sa- 
viour's mediatorial crown. The great and good hus- 
bandman transplants them from an earthly soil to the 
heavenly paradise, where they will flourish in unde- 
caying beauty and immortal bloom. In heaven there 
may be taller — older — and more majestic plants, but 
none more fragrant and lovely than those dear babes, 

" Who died for Adam sinn'd, 
But live, for Jesus died. 7 ' 

Comfort, therefore, yourselves, ye bereaved parents, 
under the loss of your children, whether at the birth, in 
infancy, in childhood, or in youth ; and say, " Behold? 
he taketh away, and who shall hinder." Contemplate 
the pleasure of meeting them again, and spending an 
eternity together in singing the praises of God and the 
Lamb, through whose love and merits alone you and 
your infant seed attain to such an elevation of glory 
and felicity. — From Maternal Solicitude. 



If we are sornywing under a misfortune, of which 
this world affords no alleviation, the death of those most 
dear to us, let us humbly offer to our God the beloved 
whom we have lost. And what (after all) have we lost ? 
• — the remaining days of a being, whom we indeed 
loved, but whose happiness we do not consider in our 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 193 

regret ; who, perhaps, was not happy here, but who 
certainly must be much happier with God; and 
whom we shall meet again, not in this dark and sor- 
rowful scene, but in the bright regions of eternal day, 
and partaking in the inexpressible happiness of eterni- 
ty. — Fenelon. 

Thus it is with God ; his parental heart does not 
wish to grieve us ; he must wound us to the very heart, 
that he may cure its malady. He must take from us 
what is most dear, lest we love it too much, lest we love 
it to the prejudice of our love for him. We weep, we 
despair, we groan in oar spirits, and we murmur against 
God ; but he leaves us to our sorrow, and we are saved ; 
our present grief saves us from an eternal sorrow. He 
has placed the friends whom he has taken from us in 
safety, to restore them to us in eternity. He has de- 
prived us of them, that he may teach us to love them 
with a pure love, a love that we may enjoy in his pres- 
ence forever ; he confers a greater blessing than we 
were capable of desiring— Fenelon. 



In another life we shall see and understand the won- 
ders of his goodness, that have escaped us in this, and 
we shall rejoice at what has made us weep on earth. 
Alas, in our present darkness, we cannot see either our 
true good or evil. If God were to gratify our desires, it 
would be our ruin. He saves us by breaking the ties 
that bind us to earth. We complain because God loves 
us better than we know how to love ourselves. We 
weep because he has taken those whom we love away 
from temptation and sin. We would possess all that 
delights and flatters our self-love, though it might lead 
us to forget that we are exiles in a strange land. God 

17 



194 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

takes the poisonous cup from our hands, and we weep 
as a child weeps when its mother takes away the shin- 
ing weapon with which it would pierce its own breast. 
- — Fenelon. 



Have you lost, by death, an object in whom your 
heart was bound up ; who was in the full enjoyment 
of life and its prosperity, and in whose society you ho- 
ped for many years of enjoyment? Oh ! consider (ere 
you accuse Providence for the stroke) that this death 
(apparently so untimely) is, possibly, the greatest in- 
stance towards you, both of the mercy and love of God. 
The creature so dear to you, may have been taken 
from some sad reverse of fortune, or from the commis- 
sion of some great crime, which might have endangered 
his salvation. To secure this, therefore, God has re- 
moved him from temptation. The same loss is, per- 
haps, a call from God to yourself, and is intended to 
awaken you from that attachment which was binding 
you too fast to this world, and causing you to forget 
your Creator. Thus the stroke which, to secure his 
future happiness, takes him from the evil to come, de- 
taches you from the world, and warns you to prepare 
for your own death, through that of one so dear to you. 
The pang of separation is, indeed, most bitter, yet our 
merciful Father does not needlessly afflict his creatures. 
He wounds, only to heal the diseases of our souls. Let 
us, then, in the hour of calamity, hold fast by this con- 
viction, and say with Job, "Though he slay me, yet 
will I trust in him." His mercy can be my support 
here, and my abundant recompense hereafter. — Fene- 
lon. 



How beautiful and affecting is the following language 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 195 

of a wise and good parent, respecting his dead children, 
used in prayer to God, by the late William Hay, Esq./ 
surgeon, Leeds. 

" I would offer my most hearty and solemn thanks- 
givings, for thy mercies shown to my dear children. 
Four of them thou wast pleased to call out of this dan- 
gerous and sinful world during the state of infancy. I 
Burrendered them to thee in thy holy ordinance of bap- 
tism, and committed them to thy disposal. Thou didst 
remove them, ere the pollutions of this world had led 
their corrupt hearts astray, and I humbly hope thou 
didst receive them to thy glory. Concerning the other 
four whom thou hast called hence in adult age, thou 
hast graciously given me the most solid hopes. Though 
by nature children of wrath, even as others, thou wast 
pleased to awaken them to a sense of the odious na- 
ture of sin, and to grant them true repentance. They 
were early taught by thy grace to flee for refuge to 
the friend of sinners, and thou didst prolong their lives 
till they had given clear proofs of a sound conversion. 
Though prepared, as I hope, to glorify thee on earth, 
thou didst dispense with their services, and didst re- 
move them hence in the beginning of their usefulness. 
But thy grace was with them. In their sickness, and 
at the approach of death, they were enabled to rejoice 
in thy salvation. The last of them I am this day to 
commit to the silent grave, but in sure and certain 
hope of a joyful resurrection to eternal life. What 
shall I render to thee for all thy mercies ! O that my 
future life might more abundantly show forth thy 
praise !" Attend, ye parents, to these sentiments of de- 
votion. The only way to part with your children with 
resignation and hope, should they be removed from 
you by the stroke of death, is to dedicate them to the 



196 SOLACE FOE BEREAVED PARENTS, 

Lord of all, and to bring them up for his service and 
glory.— The Parents Monitor. 



Q,uinctilian's letter upon the death of his two 
sons, one of whom was a youth highly accomplished, 
and of great promise, is beautiful and touching. But 
in it he boasts of his impatience, thinks it necessary to 
excuse himself for haying survived the stroke, denies 
the doctrine of a Divine superintendence over the affairs 
of men, accuses the gods of spite and injustice, and 
says his tolerance, not his love of life, will revenge his 
son for the rest of his days. This was all that ethics 
could do to calm his mind. What will an infidel say 
to such a scene as contrasted with the faith and pa- 
tience of the saints ? Will he say that their meek en- 
durance is the fruit of advanced philosophy ? duinc- 
tilian lived in an age enlightened by literature, but 
Rome was far behind Jerusalem in the sublimities of 
moral precept, because the true light had not radiated 
its horizon. And then see how Job acted, though in a 
ruder age, and surrounded by idolatry. Revelation 
cast a bright hue of heaven over all his sorrows. — Dr. 
Lawson. 



God is righteous in taking from us. He is merciful 
in sparing to us what he has not taken. If it had 
pleased God to cut off the half of our families, it would 
have been our duty to have given him thanks that the 
other half was left. I bless God for the hope of seeing 
those whom I have lost with greater pleasure than 
ever, but I have still more reason to bless him for the 
gift of his own Son to such unworthy creatures as I am, 
that through faith in him I may have everlasting life. 
— Dr. Lawson. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 197 

When God imposes a sacrifice upon us, or takes 
from us some object, he does not leave us to endure the 
stroke unsustained ; but if through the veil of sorrow 
which he spreads over us, we look up to Him, we shall 
by the means of our mortal trials, reap everlasting joys. 
We are not to enquire of God why he appoints us 
such trials, when we behold others exempt from them. 
Can we say how long our hitherto more fortunate fel- 
low-creatures may continue untried with the like ca- 
lamities ? It may be, that God sees we have most need 
of them : If we are faithful in what we understand, 
how limited soever our imperfect view may be of God's 
dealings with us, we shall find rest unto our souls, until 
it please God to dissolve our earthly tabernacle, We 
know, that then we shall have a building of God, a 
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, 
Let us, therefore, follow continually that guiding star, 
which beams upon our darkened way. Let us, with 
a willing and steady mind, embrace the occasions which 
each day may offer us of advancing towards our heav- 
enly country, where we shall find our everlasting home. 
This is our daily bread, our manna in the wilderness 
of life : with this let us be content. If we presump- 
tuously seek to look into futurity, our endeavours will 
be like the forbidden provision of the Israelites, not 
only superfluous, but noxious to ourselves.— Fenelon. 



THE TEACHING OF BAPTISM. 

Let us now consider the feelings with which parents 
should retire from the baptismal service. 

It is a solemn moment when they take the child 
away from the altar. They have given it to God ; 
and they bear it away, as the mother of Moses did her 
own son, to bring it up for another, who, in this case, 



198 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

is God. They have, by their vows, promised that the 
will of God concerning their child shall be their will, so 
that the question of its life or death is left implicitly 
with him. Though their hearts will bleed if it should 
be taken away, yet, by the baptismal service, they have 
engaged to consider the child henceforth as entirely at 
God's disposal ; and whenever they look upon it here- 
after, the feeling which they are to have is expressed 
by these words, Sent) not given. If it dies, they will 
remember its baptism and their vows, and the peace of 
God, which passe th all understanding, will steal into 
their breaking hearts. If it lives, it is to be trained up 
for that God to whom it has been given. 



Very soon they who are separated will be re-united, 
and there will appear no trace of the separation. They, 
who are about to set upon a journey, ought not to feel 
themselves far distant from those who have gone to the 
same country a few days before. Life is like a torrent ; 
the past is but a dream ; the present, while we are 
thinking of it, escapes us, and is precipitated into the 
same abyss that has swallowed up the past ; the future 
will not be of a different nature, it will pass as rapidly. 
A few moments, and a few more, and all will be ended ; 
what has appeared long and tedious, will seem short 
when it is finished— Fenelon. 



These infant buds, therefore, that seem nipt on 
earth, are merely removed to heaven, there to unfold 
themselves in everlasting bloom. Nature leaves them 
pining upon earth, Grace takes them in her arms, 
wraps them in her warm bosom, and wafts them away 
to the better land. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 199 

u See, then, how soon the flowers of life decay, 

How soon terrestrial pleasures fade away. 

A star of comfort for a moment giv'n, 

Just rose on earth, then set to rise in heav 7 n. 

Redeem'd by God from sin, releas'd from pain, 

Its life were punishment, its death is gain. 

Though it be hard to bid thy heart divide, 

To lay the gem of all thy love aside, 

Faith tells thee, (and it tells thee not in vain,) 

That thou shalt meet thine infant yet again. 

While yet on earth thine ever-circling arms 

Held it securest from surrounding harms ; 

Yet even there disease could aim the dart, 

Chill the warm cheek, and stop the flutt'ring heart; 

No ill can reach it now ; it rests above, 

Safe in the bosom of celestial love. 

Its short, but yet tempestuous way, is o'er, 

And tears shall trickle down its cheek no more. 

Then far be grief ; faith looks beyond the tomb, 

And heav'ns bright portals sparkle through the gloom. 

If bitter thoughts and tears in heav'n could be, 

It is thine infant that should weep for thee." 

Mrs. Wilson writes very sweetly : " It is only my 
child's mortal part that rests in silence ; his spirit is 
with God in his temple above. He is one of the re- 
deemed, who now throng the courts of heaven, and 
surround the throne of the Most High. Boundless 
perfection constitutes his felicity, unceasing praises 
dwell upon his lips, his holiness is for ever perfected, 
and his affections are made to flow in ever-during 
channels, toward the Source of infinite perfection, and 
through all those subordinate streams where it is dis- 
tributed. The light of heaven encircles him, and its 
splendours delight his soul. His vision is unclouded, 
and penetrates into the deep things of God. I see 
him among the glorious throng, now bending in holy 
adoration of the majesty of heaven, now a commission- 
ed messenger of mercy to other and far distant worlds. 



200 SOLACE FOE BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Perhaps he hovers now around our dwelling ; perhaps 
he will stand at heaven's portals, and be the first to 
usher us into the presence chamber of the King. 
Shall I then continue to shed unavailing tears, and 
selfishly repine at the short, the momentary separation? 
He will never return to us, but we shall go to him. In 
regard to our beloved child, we can take up the trium- 
phant song, ' O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, 
where is thy victory V n 



THE HOPE OF A RESURRECTION. 

LAVEL. 

Let those mourn without measure, who mourn 
without hope. The husbandman does not mourn, 
w T hen he casts his seed into the ground. He expects 
to receive it again, and more. The same hope have 
we, respecting our friends who have died in faith. " I 
would not have you ignorant," says Paul, " concerning 
them who are asleep, that ye sorrow not as others who 
have no hope ; for if we believe that Jesus died and 
rose again, even so also them who sleep in Jesus will 
God bring with him." He seems to say, "Look not on 
the dead as lost. They are not annihilated. Indeed, 
they are not dead. They only sleep ; and they sleep 
to awake again." You do not lament over your chil- 
dren or friends, while slumbering on their beds. Con- 
sider death as a longer sleep, from which they shall 
certainly awake. Even a heathen philosopher could 
say, that he enjoyed his friends, expecting to part with 
ihem ; and parted with them, expecting to see them 
again. And shall a heathen excel a Christian in bear- 
ing affliction with cheerfulness? — If you have a well- 
grounded hope that your deceased friend was intereit- 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 201 

ed in Christ, ponder, I entreat you, the precious sup- 
ports afforded by the doctrine of the Resurrection of 
the just. 

THE DEATH OF A CHILD NO CAUSE OF DESPONDENCY. 

Dejected mourner, bereft, as you seem, of all joy, 
you have no cause for despondency. O that you real- 
ized what blessings God has to bestow on those who 
submissively wait on him in their affliction ! He has 
consolations far transcending the joy of children. So 
others have found. An eminently pious man, having 
lost an only son, retired for some hours to his closet, 
and then came forth with such a cheerful countenance, 
that all who saw him were filled with surprise. Being 
asked an explanation of this, he replied, that he had 
enjoyed, in his retirement, that which, if renewed, 
might well reconcile him to part with a son every day. 
O how great the disproportion between the light of 
God's countenance, and the best, the sweetest of cre- 
ated enjoyments ! 



The memory of the sainted dead hovers, a blessed 
and purifying influence, over the hearts of men. At 
the grave of the good, so far from losing heart, the 
spiritually minded find new strength. They weep, but 
as they weep, they look down into the sepulchre, and 
behold angels sitting, and the dead come nearer, and 
are united to them by a fellowship more intimate 
than that of blood, — Rev. W. H. Furness. 



We are forbidden to murmur, but we are not forbid- 
den to regret; and whom we loved tenderly while 
living, we may still pursue with an affectionate re- 



202 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

membrance, without having any occasion to charge 
ourselves with rebellion against the sovereignty that 
appointed a separation.— Cowper. 



WOULD YOU CALL THEM BACK TO THIS UNHAPPY 

WORLD 3 

REV. G. WHYTE. 

Could you be so selfish, and so cruel? Could you 
wish them back — back from the presence of the Lamb, 
— back from the sweets of glory to the bitterness of 
time, — back from those rivers of pure pleasure which 
flow full and large at God's right hand, to the streams 
of mingled enjoyment in this vale of sorrow? After they 
have reached the haven of rest, would you recall them 
to struggle again with the storm ? Is there any thing 
in the state or employments of those who surround the 
throne which you are called upon to contemplate with 
sadness, or to deplore in the language of despair ? Is 
it any subject of regret to them that their sun went 
down while it was yet day ? 



LETTER TO A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD. 

Dear Madam, — I do most sincerely sympathize 
with you in your present distressed circumstances. It 
was only to-day that we heard how it hath pleased 
your Heavenly Father to take from you your little 
child. We can easily suppose that you must be over- 
whelmed with deep affliction ; and we desire rather to 
weep with you, than to try to stem the torrent of your 
grief; yet will you bear with us, while we try to call 
up to your recollection topics of strong consolation. 
The dear little one is indeed gone ; you shall not any 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 20S 

more press her to your heart or dandle her on your 
knee ; her little pleasing arts shall no more delight you. 
And who can wonder that Rachel weeps because her 
children are not. But will you bear with us, my dear 
friend, if we say that you have cause for mixing joy 
with your mourning? 

Raise your thoughts, then, from the fears of death 
and the darkness of the grave to the land of light and 
holy joy. Consider your daughter as having escaped 
all the perplexities and sins of an evil world, and ob- 
taining an inheritance among them who are sanctified. 
She was your charge for a short time, but God design- 
ed that she should now be glorified. He therefore sent 
his angel to fetch her home. The angel gladly de- 
scended. He saw, that you might for a littie have sor- 
row upon sorrow, but the child should rejoice with joy 
unspeakable. He left your house a house of mourn- 
ing, but with him your dear infant rose above the 
suns, and moons, and stars: the gate of heaven was 
thrown open, — the angel presented his charge — Jesus 
smiled with ineffable sweetness, and said, " Come, 
thou blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
pared for you." She was no longer an infant of days; 
her soul swelled and grew ; a crown was put upon her 
head; she cast it at Jesus' feet, and cried, "To him 
that loved me and washed me from my sins, to him be 
glory." See, and now in a white robe she walks with 
all the saints in the presence of God and of the Lamb. 
Oh ! my dear friend, amidst all your doubts and fears, 
what would not some folks give to be as sure as she is of 
singing for ever the praises of redeeming grace? You 
have often prayed for her ; your prayers in substance 
are answered ; perhaps in heaven she may be praying 
for you. And much as in this world we mourn the 
death of friends, when the day comes that her parents 



204 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

must die, it shall, I trust, be to her a day of transport- 
ing bliss. She will fly to the gate of heaven to wel- 
come and to embrace you, and so shall you all be for 
ever with the Lord. Wherefore, while you mourn 
your own loss, let us be permitted to entreat you to 
comfort one another with these hopes. We are well, 
thanks be to God ; when you can find conveniency to 
write to us, be so good as to say when we may expect 

to see both in . A little absence from home at 

present might not be unseasonable : and we hope we 
may say, there are not many who would be more hap- 
py in the pleasure of your company. With all regard 
and sympathy, we remain your affectionate friends. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



SELECTIONS IN POETRY. 



If there be power in song's harmonious meed, 

To raise, refine, excite heroic deed, 

Or crown proud virtue with perennial fame, 

'Twas God first gave it with a worthier aim. 

To hallelujahs — ere this world began, 

Hymned through all spheres — he waked his image, man ; 

Touch'd every bosom-chord with grateful love, 

That earth might join the host of worlds above. 

The lowliest verse that ever breath'd to impart 

Its simple fervour to the pious heart, 

To make praise vocal, and give faith a voice, 

Or help the humblest Christian to rejoice, 

Though feebly lisp'd from childhood's faltering tongue, 

Yet chimes aloft, where heavenly strains are sung : 

That spirit pure all human thought above, 

Still bears it up on wings of holiest love ! 

When tongues shall cease, and transient science fail, 

The harps of heaven shall catch the undying tale, 

Past ruin's power shall sacred truth embalm 

The hallowed hymn, the heavenly breathing psalm : 

Strains now unhonoured in this world's esteem, 

"When earth sinks mute, shall be the seraph's theme, 

And all the choirs of blessedness employ, 

Th© still sweet song of everlasting joy ! 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

" The great end of Poetry is to instruct, at the same 
time that it gives pleasure. By the decorations of ele- 
gance, and the harmony of numbers, it is well calcu- 
lated to win its way both to the heart and understand- 
ing, — like a still and placid stream which beautifies and 
enriches all around it. Hence from the earliest ages, 
when the first hymn of praise, as it were the song of 
the morning star, was borne on the wings of the cherubim 



206 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

to the throne of glory, Poetry has ever been a principal 
medium for communicating instruction to the mind, 
and captivating the affections of the heart. The truth 
of this remark is well illustrated by the use which all 
know has been made of it by the poets of the Ancients, 
to instruct in the various arts and sciences, as well as 
to incite to deeds of heroism, and to lives of virtue." 

" In times of bereavement, the mind often becomes 
utterly depressed and bewildered at its inability of ex- 
pression, and it turns instinctively to the language of 
another : to l the deep sad harmonies that haunt the 
brpast of the Poet,' who has foreshadowed a portraiture 
of our own hearts ; and we are comforted by the assu- 
rance it gives, that our state is not peculiar. In our 
weakness of grief we are apt to feel as if alone ; as if 
set apart as a mark for the shafts of adversity ; but we 
now learn the fact, that we are only one of the great 
brotherhood of sorrow." 

" In moments of affliction, we often shrink from the 
incompetence of those who, from their genuine kindli- 
ness of heart, obtrude their sympathy upon us. The 
commonplace generalities to which such persons resort, 
revolt us, as heartless and hackneyed ; the human 
voice, even, assumes a dissonance, when it urges us to 
forget a grief over which the heart yearns with a de- 
voted tenderness, feeling as if relief were a treason to 
the beloved object. Few can afford consolation in pe- 
riods like these — few should attempt it." 

" The Poet is the interpreter of the human heart — 
the expounder of its mysteries. An utterance is given 
to him, which is denied to others, even although their 
feelings may be akin to his own. Through him Truth 
speaks : and wild or wayward as may seem her revela- 
tions, yet it is the common sentiment, the universal 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 207 

emotion, she speaks ; she gives the germ of a nobler 
principle, the incentive to a higher hope." 

"We weep over his words, relieved by a strange 
sympathy ;" find through him a voice and utterance for 
thoughts too deep for expression ; and are at once re- 
lieved, comforted, and instructed. 



THE EVENING CLOUD. 

A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, 

A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow ; 
Long had I watched the glory moving on, 

O'er the still radiance of the lake below ; 
Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow, 

E'en in its very motion there was rest, 
While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, 

Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. 
Emblem, how bright of dying infant souls, 

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is giv'n, 
While mercy's breath its flight securely rolls, 

Right onward to the golden gates of heaven ; 
Where to the eye of faith it peaceful lies, 

And tells to weeping friends its glorious destinies. 

(Altered from Professor Wilxm* 



CASA WAPPY.* 

And hast thou sought thy heavenly home, 

Our fond, dear boy — 
The realms where sorrow dare not come, 

Where life is joy ? 
Pure at thy death as at thy birth, 
Thy spirit caught no taint from earth ; 
Even by its bliss we mete our death, 

Casa Wappy ! 

# # * # 

• From "Domestic Verses, by Delta" (D. M. Moir, Esq.), 1848, 
Casa Wappy was the self-conferred pet name of an infant son of th« 
poet, snatched away after ft very brief illness, 



20§ SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Thou wert a vision of delight 

To bless us given ; 
Beauty embodied to our sight, 

A type of heaven : 
So dear to us thou wert, thou art 
Even less thine own self than a part 
Of mine and of thy mother's heart, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Thy bright brief day knew no decline, 

'Twas cloudless joy ; 
Sunrise and night alone were thine, 

Beloved boy ! 
This morn beheld thee blithe and gay, 
That found thee prostrate in decay, 
And ere a third shone, clay was clay, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Gem of our hearth, our household pride, 

Earth's undefiled; 
Could love have saved, thou hadst not died, 

Our dear, sweet child ! 
Humbly we bow to Fate's decree ; 
Yet had we hope that Time should see 
Thee mourn for us, not us for thee, 
Casa Wappy I 

Do what I may, go where I will, 

Thou meet'st my sight ; 
There dost thou glide before me still— 

A form of light ! 
I feel thy breath upon my cheek— 
I see thee smile, I hear thee speak— 
Till, oh ! my heart is like to break, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Methinks thou smil'st before me now, 

With glance of stealth ; 
The hair thrown back from thy full brow 

In buoyant health : 
I see thine eyes' deep violet light, 
Thy dimpled cheek carnationed bright, 
Thy clasping arms so round and white, 
Casa Wappy ! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 209 

The nursery shows thy pictured wall, 

Thy bat, thy bow, 
Thy cloak and bonnet, club and ball ; 

But where art thou % 
A corner holds thine empty chair, 
Thy playthings idly scattered there, 
But speak to us of our despair, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Even to the last thy every word— » 

To glad, to grieve — 
Was sweet as sweetest song of bird 

On summer's eve ; 
In outward beauty undecayed, 
Death o'er thy spirit cast no shade, 
And like the rainbow thou didst fade, 
Casa Wappy ! 



Snows muffled earth when thou didst go, 

In life's spring-bloom, 
Down to the appointed house below, 

The silent tomb. 
But now the green leaves of the tree, 
The cuckoo and the " busy bee," 
Return — but with them bring not thee, 
Casa Wappy ! 

? Tis so ; but can it be (while flowers 

Revive again)— 
Man's doom, in death that we and ours 

For aye remain % 
Oh ! can it be, that o'er the grave 
The grass renewed should yearly wave, 
Yet God forget our child to save ? — 
Casa Wappy ! 

It cannot be : for were it so 

Thus man could die, 
Life were a mockery, Thought were wo, 

And Truth a lie ; 
Heaven were a coinage of th$ brain, 



210 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

Religion frenzy. Virtue vain. 
And all our hopes to meet again, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Then be to us, O dear, lost child 1 

With beam of love, 
A star, death's uncongenial wild 

Smiling above ; 
Soon, soon thy little feet have trod 
The skyward path, the seraph's road, 
That led thee back from man to God, 
Casa Wappy ! 

# # * # 

Farewell, then— for a while, farewell — 

Pride of my heart ! 
It cannot be that long we dwell, 

Thus torn apart : 
Time's shadows like the shuttle flee : 
And, dark howe'er life's night may be, 
Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee, 
Casa Wappy I 



BY THE BEDSIDE OF A SICK CHILD. 
David, therefore, besought God for the child. — 2 Sam. xii. 16. 

Now all is done that love, and care, 
And skilful kindness could suggest ; 

And he who heard our anxious prayer, 
Will answer as his love thinks best : 

O, that both hopes and fears were still 

Waiting on his mysterious will 

And yet, both hopes and fears will crowd 
Around that bright and precious child ; 

And both will speak their thoughts aloud, 
Till this distracted heart is wild : 

O might they all give place to one 

Heart filling prayer, — " God's will be done." 

Sometimes a dream of what may be, 
Comes, like soft sunshine, o'er the heart ; 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 211 

I hear his prattle at my knee, 

Feel his warm cheek near mine, and start 
To find it — ah ! so cold and pale, 
That hope (and well-nigh faith) doth fail. 

And then, again, the dream returns, — 

Childhood and youth are safely o'er ; 
His eye with manhood's ardour burns, 

Tears hover round his path no more : 
Hopes with their buds and blossoms, all 
Burst, where his bounding footsteps fall. 

He seems to speak — with anxious ear, 

My very heart waits breathless by ; 
His lips are parted, — and I hear, 

My precious babe, thy restless cry ; — 
E'en hope, affrighted, flees away, 
As if it had no heart to stay. 

Come then, my God, and take the place 

Of these distracting hopes and fears ; 
'Stablish this trembling heart with grace, 

Dry with thine hand these falling tears ; 
And teach me to confide in thee 
The treasure thou couldst trust with me. 

Happy if, rescued from the strait 

Of being called on to decide, 
Here with submissive soul, I wait, 

By thy decision to abide, — 
Life, with its blessings and its pain, 
Or death, with its, " to die is gain." 



THE SICK CHILD'S DREAM OF HEAVEN. 

" And bade me be glad to die." 

By Robert NicoU, Scotland's second Burns, 

u O mither, mither, my head was sair, 
And my een wi' tears were weet, 

But the pain has gane for evermair, 
Sae mither dinna greet ; 



212 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

And I ha'e had sic a bonnie dream, 

Since last asleep I fell, 
O' a' that is holy an' glide to name, 

That I have wauken'd my dream to tell. 

I thought on the morn o' a simmer day, 

That awa' through the clouds I flew, 
While my silken hair did wavin' play 

'Mang breezes steep'd in dew ; 
And the happy things o' life and light 

Were around my gowden way, 
As they stood in their parent Heaven's sight 

In the hames o' nightless day. 

An' songs o' love that nae tongue may tell, 

Frae their hearts cam* flowin' free, 
Till the starns stood still, while alang did swell 

The plaintive melodie : 
And ane o' them sang wi' my mither' s voice, 

Till through my heart did gae 
That chanted hymn o' my bairnhood's choice, 

Sae dowie, saft, an' wae. 

Thae happy things o' the glorious sky 

Did lead me far away, 
Where the stream o' life rins never dry, 

Where nathing kens decay j 
And they laid me down in a mossy bed, 

Wi' curtains o' spring leaves green, 
And the name o' God they praying said, 

And a light came o'er my een. 

And I saw the earth that I had left, 

And I saw my mither there ; 
And I saw her grieve that she was bereft 

O' the bairn she thought sae fair ; 
And I saw her pine till her spirit fled — 

Like a bird to its young one's nest — 
To that land of love ; and my head was laid 

Again on my mither's breast. 

And, mither, ye took me by the hand, 
As ye were wont to do ; 



80LACE FOE BEEEAVED PARENTS, 213 

And your loof, sae saft and white, I fand 

Laid on my caller brow ; 
And my lips you kiss'd, and my curling hair 

You round your ringers wreath'd ; 
And I kent that a happy mither's prayer 

Was o'er me silent breath' d ; 

And we wander' d through that happy land, 

That was gladly glorious a* ; 
The dwellers there were an angel band, 

And their voices o' love did fa' 
On our ravish'd ears like the deem' tones 

O' an anthem far away, 
In a star-lit hour, when the woodland moans 

That its green is turn'd to grey. 

And, mither, amang the sorrowless there, 

We met my brithers three, 
And your bonnie May, my sister fair, 

And a happy bairn was she ; 
And she led me awa' 'mang living flowers, 

As on earth she aft has done ; 
And thegither we sat in the holy bowers, 

Where the blessed rest aboon ; — 

And she tauld me I was in Paradise, 

Where God in love doth dwell — 
Where the weary rest, and the mourner's voice 

Forgets its warld-wail ; 
And she tauld me they kent na dule nor care ; 

And bade me be glad to dee, 
That yon sinless land and the dwellers there 

Might be hame and kin to me. 

Then sweetly a voice came on my ears, 

And it sounded sae holily, 
That my heart grew saft, and blabs o' tears 

Sprung up in my sleepin' e'e ; 
And my inmost soul was sairly moved 

Wi' its mair than mortal joy ; — 
'Twas the voice o' Him wha bairnies lov'd 

That waken'd your dreaming boy !" 



214 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 



THE BEREAVED. 
BY ROBERT NIGOLL. 

They re a' gane thegither, Jeanie— 

They're a' gane thegither : 
Our bairns aneath the cauldrife yird 

Are laid wi' ane anither. 
Sax lads and lasses Death has ta'en 

Frae father an' frae mither ; 
But O ! we manna greet and mane— 

They're a' on hie thegither, Jeanie— 

They're a' on hie thegither. 

Our eild will now be drearie, Jeanie — 

Our eild will now be drearie : 
Our young an' bonnie bairns ha'e gane, 

An' left our hame fu' eerie. 
'Neath Age's hand we now may grane — 

In poortith cauld may swither: 
The things that toddled but an' ben 

Are a' on hie thegither, Jeanie— 

Are a' on hie thegither. 

Now sorrow may come near us, Jeanie — 

Now sorrow may come near us : 
The buirdly chields are lyin' low 

Wha wadna let it steer us. 
The bonnie lasses are awa' 

Wha came like sun-glints hither, 
To fill wi' joy their father's ha' — 

They're a' on hie thegither, Jeanie — 

They're a' on hie thegither. 

In the kirkyard they're sleepin', Jeanie — 

In the kirkyard they're sleepin' : 
It may be grieves their happy souls 

To see their parents weepin'. 
They're on to bigg a hame for us, 

Where flowers like them ne'er wither, 
Amang the starns in love an' bliss — 

They're a' on hie thegither, Jeanie — 

They're a' on hie thegither. 



80LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 215 

THE INFANT'S DYING WAIL. 
A PARENTAL SKETCH BY THE AUTHOR. 

The midnight bell had toll'd — and earliest bird 
Had loud proclaimed the break of coming day, 
While yet the stars kept watch at gate of heaven. 
And night winds sighed among the leafless trees. 
But not to seek repose had now retired 
The gathered inmates of that cherished home. 
In silence, sad, they stand collected round 
The couch, on which is laid a suffering babe. 
The sun his yearly round had not yet closed, 
Since first that babe was ushered to the light, 
Most welcome gift from God's paternal hand. 
In form most fair and perfect. In spirit 
Warm, affectionate, and ever mild. 
His capacious brow, and eye intelligent, 
Gave noble promise of the mighty powers 
Still latent, but fast bursting into life. 
His parents loved him much. Their hearts had bled, 
The darksome tomb within its bosom closed 
The buried forms of other children dear. 
They therefore clung to him as to the dead 
Revived — the lost ones found — their light and life. 
For joy o'er him they had forgotten 
The bitter anguish of that dreadful hour, 
When two fair buds of life lay crushed and torn. 
Most sweet it was to see this opening flower 
Expand its leaves and breathe its fragrance forth — 
To hear his infant prattle — to behold 
His looks of love, his first, light, gladsome steps, 
And all the graces of blest infancy. 
How have I clasped him to this doting heart, 
In all the ecstacy of untold joy ; 
And felt, while round my neck his fond arms clung, 
And his soft cheek press'd mine, that depth of bliss 
Unutterable, which only parents know. 
But he was not a destined heir of earth, 
Nor long to tread its pilgrimage of woe. 
An angel he — an elect child of grace — 
An heir of bliss — a heaven-ward voyager. 



216 SOLACE FOE BEREAVED PARENTS. 

His vacant throne for him was kept reserved, 

And sister spirits longed to see him come. 

A glorious crown of life, a sceptre bright, 

And glittering robes, awaited him above. 

God had now called his child, and forth had sent 

The ministering host to guard him home. 

And swift to loose his bonds of earthly mould, 

To fierce disease had given him a prey. 

For ten long days and nights the secret foe, 

Invisible, his dread commission filled, 

And baffled all the art of human skill ; 

Till now at length in death's last struggles lay 

The sinking form of that most blessed child. 

No cry escaped his lips — no sigh his breast — 

Nor sign of murmuring by him was given. 

But calm he lay — as in God's arms outspread — 

As into heaven he cast his blissful gaze, 

And even then had taste of joys to come. 

It was the theme of all — I picture not — 

How unrepiningly he met his fate — 

Amid despair, most tranquil and serene ; 

With tearless eyes, while none around were dry, 

Outworn with agony he now lay stretched 

Upon his downy pillow, there to die. 

Resigned by parents' arms, he bid farewell 

To earthly scenes and all terrestrial joy. 

His bright eye dimmed — his palsied limbs lay cold 

And motionless. His heaving breast rose high — 

Till with a dove-like wail he sunk to rest. 

God speed thee in thy flight, my blessed boy ! 
Let angel bands conduct thee safe to heaven, 
There with thy sisters dear to share its bliss I 
Thou wert to me the dearest joy of earth, 
And I would now rejoice with thee above, 
And chide my selfish grief with thoughts of thee, 
As now enroll'd among the cherub throng. 
Farewell, my boy ! no more thy smile I'll see 
Till thee I meet around the throne of God. 
But never from this heart shall pass away 
Thy dying form, and that last dying wail. 

Charleston, Nov. 27th, 1841. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 217 

"OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN." 

MARY S. B, DANA. 

I dearly love a little child, 
And Jesus loved young children too ; 
He ever sweetly on them smiled, 
And placed them with his chosen few. 
When, cradled on its mother's breast, 
A babe was brought to Jesus' feet, 
He laid his hand upon its head, 
And bless' d it with a promise sweet 

" Forbid them not !" the Saviour said, 
" Oh ! suffer them to come to me ! 
Of such my heavenly kingdom is — 
Like them may all my followers be I" 
Young children are the gems of earth, 
The brightest jewels mothers have ; 
They sparkle on the throbbing breast, 
But brighter shine beyond the grave. 

A MOTHER'S LAMENT. 

MONTGOMERY. 

I loved thee, daughter of my heart ; 

My child, I loved thee dearly ; 
And though we only met to part, 

■ — How sweetly ! how severely !— 
Nor life nor death can sever 
My soul from thine forever, 

Thy days, my little one, were few ; 

An angel's morning visit, 
That came and vanish' d with the dew; 

'Twas here, 'tis gone, where is it? 
Yet did' st thou leave behind thee 
A clue for love to find thee. 

The eye, the lip, the cheek, the brow, 
The hands stretch'd forth in gladness, 

All life, joy, rapture, beauty now ; 
Then dash'd with infant sadness ; 
19 



218 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Till, brightening by transition, 
Return'd the fairy vision : — 

Where are they now ? — those smiles, those tears, 

Thy mother's darling treasure 1 
She sees them still, and still she hears 

Thy tones of pain or pleasure, 
To her quick pulse revealing 
Unutterable feeling. 

Hush'd in a moment on her breast, 
Life, at the well-spring drinking ; 

Then cradled on her lap to rest 
In rosy slumber sinking, 

Thy dreams — no thought can guess them ; 

And mine — no tongue express them. 

For then this waking eye could see, 

In many a vain vagary, 
The things that never were to be, 

Imaginations airy ; 
Fond hopes that mothers cherish, 
Like still-born babes to perish. 

Mine perish'd on thy early bier ; 

No, — changed to forms more glorious. 
They flourish in a higher sphere, 

O'er time and death victorious ; 
Yet would these arms have chain'd thee, 
And long from heaven detain'd thee. 

Sarah ! my last, my youngest love, 

The crown of every other ! 
Though thou art born in heaven above, 

I am thine only mother, 
Nor will affection let me 
Believe thou canst forget me. 

Then, — thou in heaven and I on earth, — 

May this one hope delight us, 
That thou wilt hail my second birth, 

When death shall reunite us, 
Where worlds no more can sever 
Parent and child for ever. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 219 

THE THREE SONS ; OR, FAITH TRIUMPHANT. 

BY REV. J. MOULTRIE, A.M. 

I. 

I have a son, a little son, 

A boy just five years old, 
With eyes of thoughtful earnestness, 

A mind of gentle mould. 

They tell me that unusual grace 

In all his ways appears, 
That my child is grave, and wise of heart, 

Beyond his childish years. 

I cannot say how this may be, 

I know his face is fair, 
And yet his chiefest comeliness 

Is his sweet and serious air. 

I know his heart is kind and fond, 

I know he loveth me, 
But he loveth yet his mother more, 

With grateful fervency. 

But that which others most admire, 

Is the thought that fills his mind, 
The food for grave, inspiring speech, 

He everywhere doth find. 

Strange questions doth he ask of me, 

When we together walk ; 
He scarcely thinks as children think, 

Or talks as children talk. 

Nor cares he much for childish sports, 

Dotes not on bat or ball, 
But looks on manhood's ways and works, 

And aptly mimics all. 

His little heart is busy still, 

And oftentimes perplexed 
With thoughts about this world of ours, 

And thoughts about the next 



220 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

He kneels at his dear mother's knees. 

She teaches him to pray, 
And strange, and sweet, and solemn, then, 

Are the words which he will say. 

Oh, should my gentle child be spared, 
To manhood's years, like me, 

A holier and a wiser man 
I trust that he will be. 

And when I look into his eyes. 
And on his thoughtful brow, 

I dare not think what I should feel, 
Were I to lose him now. 



ii. 

I have a son, a second son, 

A simple child of three ; 
I'll not declare how bright and fair 

His little features be. 

I do not think his light blue eye 

Is like his brother's keen, 
Nor his brow so full of childish thought 

As his hath ever been. 

But his little heart's a fountain pure, 

Of kind and tender feeling, 
And his every look's a gleam of light, 

Rich depths of love revealing. 

When he walks with me, the country folk, 

Who pass us in the street, 
Will shout for joy, and bless my boy, 

He looks so mild and sweet. 

A playfellow is he to all, 

And yet, with cheerful tone, 
Will sing his little song of love, 

When left to sport alone. 

His presence is like sunshine, sent 
To gladden home 5 the earthy 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 221 

To comfort us in all our griefs, 
And sweeten all our mirth. 

Should he grow up to riper years, 

God grant his heart may prove, 
As sweet a home for heavenly grace, 

As now for earthly love. 

And if, beside his grave, the tears 

Our aching eyes must dim, 
God comfort us for all the love 

Which we shall lose in him 



in. 

I have a son, a third sweet son, 

His age I cannot tell, 
For they reckon not by years and months, 

Where he hath gone to dwell. 

To us, for fourteen anxious months, 
His infant smiles were given, 

And then he bade farewell to earth, 
And went to live in heaven. 

I cannot tell what form is his, 

What looks he weareth now, 
Nor guess how bright a glory crowns 

His shining seraph brow. 

The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, 
The bliss which he doth feel, 

Are numbered with the secret things 
Which God will not reveal. 

But I know, for God hath told me this, 

That he is now at rest, 
Where other blessed infants are, 

On their Saviour's loving breast. 



Whate'er befalls his brethren twain, 
His bliss can never cease ; 

Their lot may here be grief and fear, 
But his is certain peace. 



&22 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

It may be that the tempter's wiles 
Their souls from bliss may sever, 

But, if our own poor faith fail not, 
He must be ours forever. 

When we think on what our darling is, 

And what we still must be ; 
When we muse on that world's perfect bliss, 

And this world's misery ; 

When we groan beneath this load of sin, 

And feel this grief and pain, 
Oh, we'd rather lose our other two, 

Than have him here again. 



THE DEATH OF THE FIRST-BORN. 

ALARIC A. WATTS. 

" Fare thee well, thou first and fairest ! 
Fare thee well, thou best and dearest !" 

Burns. 

My sweet one, my sweet one ! the tears were in my eyes 
When first I clasped thee to my heart, and heard thy feeblo 

cries ; — 
For I thought of all that I had borne as I bent me down to kiss 
Thy cherry lip and sunny brow, my first-born bud of bliss ! 

I turned to many a withered hope, — to years of grief and 
pain ; — 

And the cruel wrongs of a bitter world flashed o'er my boil- 
ing brain — 

I thought of friends grown worse than cold, of persecuting 
foes, — 

And I asked of Heaven, if ills like these must mar thy 
youth's repose ! 

I gazed upon thy quiet face — half blinded by my tears — 
Till gleams of bliss, unfelt before, came brightening on my 

fears — 
Sweet rays of hope that fairer shone 'mid the cloud of gloom 

that bound them, 
As stars dart down their loveliest light when midnight skies 

are round them. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 223 

My sweet one, my sweet one ! thy life's brief hour is o'er, 
And a father's anxious fears for thee can fever me no more ; 
And for the hopes, the sunbright hopes — that blossomed at 

thy birth — 
They too have fled,, to prove how frail are cherished things 

on earth ! 

'Tis true that thou wert young, my child, but though brief 

thy span below. 
To me it was a little age of agony and woe ; 
For, from the first faint dawn of life thy cheek began to 

fade, 
And my heart had scarce thy welcome breathed, ere my 

hopes were wrapt in shade. 

the child, in its hours of health and bloom, that is dear as 

thou wert then, 
Grows far more prized — -more fondly loved — in sickness and 

in pain, 
And thus 'twas thine to prove, dear babe, when every hope 

was lost, 
Ten times more precious to my soul — for all that thou hadst 

cost! 

Cradled in thy fair mother's arms, we watched thee day by 

.day, 
Pale, like the second bow of heaven, as gently waste away j 
And, sick with dark foreboding fears, we dared not breathe 

aloud, ' 

Sat hand in hand, in speechless grief, to wait death's coming 

cloud. 

It came at length ; o'er thy bright blue eye the film was 

gathering fast,— 
And an awful shade passed o'er thy brow, the deepest and 

the last ; — 
In thicker gushes strove thy breath,— we raised thy droop* 

ing head, 
A moment more — the final pang — and thou wert of the 

dead ! 

Thy gentle mother turned away to hide her face from me, 
And murmured low of Heaven's behests, and bliss attained 
by thee ; — 



224 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

She would have chid me that I mourned a doom so blest as 

thine, 
Had not her own deep grief burst forth in tears as wild as 

mine! 

We laid thee down in sinless rest, and from thine infant 

brow 
Culled one soft lock of radiant hair— our only solace now,— 
Then placed around thy beauteous corse, flowers, not more 

fair and sweet ; 
Twin rosebuds in thy little hands, and jasmine at thy feet. 

Though other offspring still be ours, as fair perchance as. 

thou, 
With all the beauty of thy cheek— the sunshine of thy brow, 
They never can replace the bud our early fondness nurst, 
They may be lovely and beloved, but not like thee — the 

first! 

The first ! How many a memory bright that one sweet 
word can bring 

Of hopes that blossomed, drooped, and died, in life's delight- 
ful spring ; 

Of fervid feelings passed away— those early seeds of bliss, 

That germinate in hearts unsered, by such a world as this ! 

My sweet one, my sweet one, my fairest, and my first ! 
When I think of what thou migh'st have been, my heart i$ 

like to burst ; 
But gleams of gladness through the gloom their soothing 

radiance dart, 
And my sighs are hush'd, my tears are dried, when I turn 

to what thou art ! 

Pure as the snow-flake ere it falls and takes the stain of 

earth, 
With not a taint of mortal life, except thy mortal birth,™ 
God bade thee early taste the spring for which so many 

thirst ; 
And bliss — eternal bliss — is thine, my fairest, and my first ! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENT*. 225 

« 

TO MY DEPARTED DAUGHTER. 

From " Songs of Home, 11 

Brief time has pass'd, my buried love, 

Since, seated by thy gentle side, 
A web of future joy I wove, 

With all a father's fondest pride : 
Hope's shuttle lies all idle now, 
The thread is snapped, for where art thou 1 

Thy glossy curl retains its sheen, 

The forehead where it waved is dust ; 
And thus 'twill be, has ever been, 

With hopes which place their joy and trust 
On things of earth ; the dearer they, 
The sooner doomed to know decay. 

It was such joy to feel thine arm, 

Thy soft white arm, twine round my neck ; 

To mark each day some budding charm 
Steal forth in beauty free from speck, 

That, gazing on thy dove-like eye, 

I half forgot that thou could' st die. 

Thy place is vacant now, my sweet, 

Thy soft, endearing tones I miss ; 
No more with light and eager feet 

Thou com'st to claim a father's kiss : 
No more thy arch and laughing eye 
Bids gay defiance to his sigh, 

There is a spell upon our home, 

So mirthful once, so silent now ; 
Thy mother's cheek has lost its bloom, 

And grief lies heavy on her brow : 
E'en while she bids me cease to pine, 
Her tears gush forth and blend with mine, 

Oh ! my lost child ! thou wert so dear, 

So very dear to heart and eye ; 
So blooming, that the cloud of fear 

Ne'er shadow'd o'er hope's rosy sky. 
It came at length, a night of doom, 
And turned our day to deepest gloom, 



226 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

The grass above thy grave is green, 
And fresh as hope was wont to be ; 

But never in our home, I ween, 
Will joy shoot forth as cheeringly 

As erst it did, my gentle child, 

When thy dear eyes upon us smiled. 



TO A WIFE ON HER INDULGENCE OF SORROW. 

From "Songs of Home. 11 

I would not chide thee, my lov'd wife, 

But still I grieve to see 
Thy spirit thus with God at strife,— 

Thus mourning his decree ; 
It is not well, my gentle one, 

To rivet sorrow's chains, 
And in our grief for blessings gone, 

Forget how much remains. 

'Tis true a fount of joy has closed, 

As holy as 'twas sweet ; - 
The smiles on which our souls reposed, 

No more our bosoms greet. 
Our spirit's star has lost its light, 

And set no more to rise ; 
But there are others warm and bright 

In our domestic skies : — 

Two hearts which never yet have known 

Love's "sere and yellow leaf;" 
Two souls, the concord of whose tone 

Has been unmarred in grief: 
A fond esteem which passing years 

Have made more fond and warm, — 
These, then, are but ungrateful tears, 

Which steal from life its charms. 

Then grieve not, love, our child is bless' d, 

Our loss has been her gain ; 
Her sainted spirit knows a rest 

Which has no dream of pain j 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 22T 

If fondly still she hovers near 

Around her once glad home, 
Say, would it not her bliss impair 

To see her mother's gloom ? 



SONNET. 

EMILY TAYLOR. 

Mother, revere God's image in thy child ! 

No earthly gift thy parent arms enfold ; 

No mortal tongue as yet the worth hath told 
Of that which in thy bosom, meek and mild, 
Rests its weak head. O, not by sense beguiled 

Gaze on that form of perishable mould j 
Though first by thee it lived, on thee it smiled, 

Yet not for thee existence must it hold, 
For God's it is, not thine. Thou art but one 

To whom that happy destiny is given, 
To see an everlasting life begun, 

To watch the dawnings of the future heaven, 
And to be such in purity and love 
As best may win it to that life above ! 



THE CHILDREN WHOM JESUS BLEST. 

MRS. HEMANS. 

Happy were they, the mothers, in whose sight 
Ye grew, fair children ! hallowed from that hour 
By your Lord's blessing ! surely thence a shower 

Of heavenly beauty, a transmitted light 

Hung on your brows and eyelids, meekly bright, 
Through all the after years which saw ye move 

Lowly, yet still majestic, in the might, 

The conscious glory of the Saviour's love ! 

And honoured be all childhood, for the sake 
Of that high love ! Let reverential care 

Watch to behold the immortal spirit wake, 
And shield its first bloom from unholy air ; 

Owning in each young suppliant glance the sign 

Of claims upon a heritage divine. 



228 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 



THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 
From " Sacred Lyrics" by R* Huie. 

The room was narrow, chill, and low ; 

And from the casement small 
Scarce light enough was thrown, to show 

The damp and dingy wall, 
Beneath whose shade, on pallet bare, 
Was stretched an humble child of pray'r. 

Eight times the summer's breeze has fann'd 

His little pensive brow ; 
But ah ! the lank and icy hand 

Of death is on it now ; 
And fast he journeys to the bourne, 
From which no traveller returns. 

His wasted limbs, his fevered cheek, 

His faint and ghastly smile 
Of deep decay and suffering speak ; — 

And yet his lips the while 
For naught but faith in Jesus pray, 
And patience in this trying day. 

His mother o'er his pillow bends, 

To watch his spirit part, 
And much support his converse lends 

To her lone widowed heart : 
For she, too, shares the inward joy 
And peace, which cheer the dying boy. 

" Dear mother," says he, " cease to weep, 

Of hope my soul is full ; 
But ! my little brothers keep 

At that blest Sabbath school, 
To which I, under Jesus, owe 
What I of grace and mercy know. 

And when, by father's lonely bed, 

You place me in the ground ; 
And his green turf, with daisies spread, 

Has also wrapt me round ; 
Rejoice to think, to you 'tis given, 
To have a ransomed child in heaven ! ?l 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 229 

O Lord ! how oft do sucklings' lips 

Thy matchless praise declare ! 
How oft in faith do babes eclipse 

The man of hoary hair ! 
But such is Thine unerring will, 
In grace and nature sovereign still I 



THE MOTHER AND HER DYING BOY. 

BOY. 

My mother, my mother, O let me depart ! 

Your tears and your pleadings are swords to my heart. 

I hear gentle voices, that chide my delay ; 

I see lovely visions that woo me away. 

My prison is broken, my trials are o'er ! 

mother, my mother, detain me no more ! 

MOTHER. 

And will you then leave us, my brightest, my best ? 
And will you run nestling no more to my breast 1 
The summer is coming to sky and to bower ; 
The tree that you planted will soon be in flower ; 
You loved the soft season of song and of bloom ; 
O, shall it return, and find you in the tomb ? 

BOY. 

Yes, mother, I loved in the sunshine to play, 
And talk with the birds and blossoms all day ; 
But sweeter the songs of the spirits on high, 
And brighter the glories round God in the sky : 

1 see them ! I hear them ! they pull at my heart ! 
My mother, my mother, O let me depart ! 

MOTHER. 

do not desert us ! Our hearts will be drear, 
Our home will be lonely, when you are not here. 
Your brother will sigh 'mid his playthings, and say, 

1 wonder dear William so long can delay : 

That foot like the wild wind, that glance like a star, 
O what will this world be, when they are afar ? 

BOY. 

This world, dearest mother ! O live not for this ; 
No, press on with me to the fulness of bliss ! 

20 



230 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

And, trust me, whatever bright fields I may roam, 
My heart will not wander from you and from home. 
Believe me still near you on pinions of love ; 
Expect me to hail you when soaring above. 

MOTHER. 

Well, go, my beloved ! The conflict is o'er ; 
My pleas are all selfish ; I urge them no more. 
Why chain your bright spirit down here to the clod, 
So thirsting for freedom, so ripe for its God 1 
Farewell, then ! farewell, till we meet at the Throne, 
Where love fears no partings, and tears are unknown I 

BOY. 

glory ! O glory ! what music ! what light ! 
What wonders break in on my heart, on my sight ! 

1 come, blessed spirits ! I hear you from high ; 
O frail, faithless nature, can this be to die ? 

So near ! what, so near to my Saviour and King ? 
O help me, ye angels, His glories to sing ! 



ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. 
J. CUNNINGHAM. 

Yes, thou art fled, and saints a welcome sing j 
Thine infant spirit soars on angel wing ; 
Our dark affection might have hoped thy stay,— 
The voice of God has call'd the child away. 
Like Samuel early in the temple found — 
Sweet rose of Sharon, plant of holy ground, 
O ! more than Samuel blessed, to thee is given, 
The God he served on earth to serve in heaven. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 231 

The following beautiful lines will touch a chord in 
many a maternal heart, wounded by the hand of 
death, and sorrowing for those whom God has perhaps 
in mercy taken from the conflicts of life. 

HOURS OF A BEREAVED MOTHER. 
BY MRS. H. M. DODGE. 

And I am left ! There is a strange delight 

In counting o'er one's bitterness, to cull 

A flower of comfort from it. I am left 

To hear the gathering storms of life, my child, 

Still tempest-tost upon its dangerous seas, 

While thou art safely moored. Thy little barque 

Is anchored in the haven where the winds 

Of sorrow never blow. Thy star has risen 

In climes of peace and love, to set no more 

For ever and for ever. All thy life 

Was like a rose-bud — like the gentle breath 

Of purest fragrance, wafted on the wing 

Of early Zephyr— like the opening ray 

Of morning's softest blush. Thy little heart 

Had never tasted wo. Thy infant breast 

Was heaven's own dwelling place — it never knew 

The touch of aught save innocence and love. 

* * * * Blessed child ! 
Thy lot on earth was bright, and now thou art 
With holy angels. I will cease to mourn ! 
Oh ! had I loved thee less, my foolish heart 
Had sighed to keep thee in this changing world- 
Had fastened thee to life, 'till thou hadst drained 
Its very dregs of wo ! Never ! O, never 
Could I have knelt and kissed the chast'ning rod 
With such unfeigned submission. Never ! never 
Could I have looked so calmly on the smile 
Thy parting spirit left, had my fond soul 
Less dotingly hung o'er thee in thy life — 
Less proudly treasured up thy darling name 
In the deep recess of my heart. But now 
Our very lives were one. There could not be 
A deeper, purer tenderness, than heaved 



232 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

This trembling breast for thee. How could I then 

Ask aught for thee but happiness ? In life, 

When thou wast closely folded in these arms, 

And I did feel thy warm breath on my cheek, 

Thy smiling eyes fixed tenderly on mine, 

My prayers were full of pleadings, agonies 

Almost of earnestness, that heaven would bless 

Thy opening day with joy and every good 

That might be deemed most proper. Oh, are not 

These prayers most fully answered ? Could my soul 

In all its deepest gush of tenderness, 

Have asked a holier boon — a blessedness 

More durable, more infinite and pure, 

More like the nature of a God to give, 

Than heaven's own self, with all its blessed ones, 

Its high society, its holy love, 

Its rapturous songs of gratitude and praise, 

Its pure celestial streams, and fruits, and flowers, 

And glorious light reflected from the face 

Of God's eternal Son % Could I have claimed 

A higher boon, my precious babe, for thee % 

And then, again, to be exempt from wo 

And human suffering, for ever free 

From all the toils, and pains, and nameless cares 

That gather with our years — and oh ! perchance, 

At last a hopeless death ! Oh ! I could weep 

With very gratitude that thou art saved — 

Thy soul for ever saved. What though my heart 

Should bleed at every pore— still thou art blessed. 

There is an hour, my precious innocent, 

When we shall meet again ! Oh ! may we meet 

To separate no more. Yes ! I can smile, 

And sing with gratitude, and weep with joy, 

Even while my heart is breaking ! 



THE LOST ONE. 

MARY HO WITT. 

We meet around the hearth — thou art not there, 
Over our household joys hath passed a gloom : 

Beside the fire we see thy empty chair, 
And miss thy sweet voice in the silent roam,— 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 233 

What hopeless longings after thee arise ! 

Even for the touch of thy small hand I pine. 
And for the sound of thy dear little feet — r 
Alas ! tears dim my eyes, 
Meeting in every place some joy of thine, 
Or when fair children pass me in the street. 

Beauty was on thy cheek — and thou didst seem 
A privileged being — chartered from decay ; 

And thy free spirit, like a mountain stream 
That hath no ebb, kept on its cheerful way : 
Thy laugh was like the inspiring breath of spring, 

That thrills the heart, and cannot be unfelt ; 

The sun, the moon, the green leaves, and the flowers, 
And every living thing, 

Were a strong joy to thee — thy spirit dwelt 
Gladly in life, rejoicing in its powers. 

Oh ! what had Death to do with one like thee ? 

Thou young and loving one, whose soul did cling, 
Even as the ivy clings unto the tree, 

To those who loved thee — thou whose tears would spring, 

Dreading a short day's absence, didst thou go 
Alone into the future world unseen, 

Solving each awful, untried mystery, 
The unknown to know, 
To be where mortal traveller hath not been — 

Whence welcome tidings cannot come from thee? 

My happy boy !— and murmur I, that death 
Over thy young and buoyant frame had power? 

In yon bright land, love never perisheth, 

Hope may not mock, nor grief the heart devour : 
The beautiful are round thee — thou dost keep 

Within the Eternal Presence, and no more 
Mayst death, or pain, or separation dread : 
Thy bright eyes cannot weep, 

Nor they with whom thou art thy loss deplore, 
For ye are of the living — not the dead. 

Thou dweller with the Unseen, who hast explored 
The immense unknown — thou to whom Death and Heaven 

20* 



234 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS.' 

Are mysteries no more, whose soul is stored 

With knowledge for which men have vainly striven, 
Beloved child ! oh when shall I lie down 
With thee beneath fair trees that cannot fade % 

When from the immortal rivers quench my thirst? 
f Life's morning passeth on, 

Noon speeds, and cometh the dim evening's shade 
And night : — anon is every cloud dispersed, 

And o'er the hills of Heaven the Eternal Day shall burst I 



A FATHER'S LAMENT. 

WILLIAM HOWITT. 

" Thou takest not away, O death ! 
Thou strik'st — and absence perisheth J 

Indifference is no more : 
The future brightens on our sight, 
For on the past is fallen a light 
That tempts us to adore." 

Wordsworth. 

Two creatures of a pleasant life were mine ; 
My house they filled with a perpetual joy ; 
Twin lamps that chased all darkness did they shine— 
My fairy girl and merry-hearted boy. 
I never dreamed Death would their mirth destroy, 
For they were dwelling 'mid life's freshest springs, 
And I was busied with a fond employ, 
Ranging the future on Hope's fearless wings, 
And gathering for them thence how many pleasant things ! 

In truth, I was a proud and joyful man, 
As from the floor unto the very roof 
Their murmured bursts of joy and laughter ran, 
And jocund shouts which needed no reproof — 
All weariness, all gloom was kept aloof, 
By their quaint shows and fancies ever new, 
Now bending age with staff in its behoof, 
Now Island Crusoe and " Man Friday" true, 
Now shipmates far at sea with all their jovial crew. 

But a dark dream has swept across my brain, 
A wild, a dismal dream that will not break— 






SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 235 

A rush of fear — an agony of pain — 
Pangs and suspense that inly made me quake. — - 
My boy ! my boy ! I saw thy sweet eyes take 
A strange unearthly lustre, and then fade ; 
And oh ! I deemed my heart must surely break, 
As, stooping, I thy pleasant locks surveyed, 
And felt that thou must die, and they in dust be laid. 

Oh ! precious in thy life of happiness ! 
Daily and hourly valued more and more, 
Yet, to the few brief days of thy distress, 
How faint all love my spirit knew before ! 
I turn and turn, and ponder o'er and o'er. 
Insatiate, all that sad and dreamy time 
Thy words thrill through me — in my fond heart's core 
I heard thy sighs, and tears shed for no crime, 
And thy most patient love sent from a happier clime. 

How dim and dismal is my home ! — a sense 
Of thee spreads through it like a haunting ill ; 
For thou — for ever, thou hast vanished thence ! 
This — this pursues me, pass where'er 1 will, 
And all the traces thou hast left but fill 
The hollow of thine absence with more pain ; 
I toil to keep thy living image still, 
But fancy feebly doth her part maintain ; 
I see, yet see thee not, my child ! as I would fain. 

In dreams for ever thy dear form I grasp, 
In noonday reveries do I rove — then start— 
And certainty, as with an iron clasp, 
Shuts down once more to misery my heart ; 
The world from thee as a shorn flower doth part, 
Ending its care and knowledge with " Farewell !" 
But in my soul a shrined life thou art, 
Ordained with memory and strong hope to dwell. 
And with all pure desires to sanctify thy cell. 

Spring like a spirit is upon the earth — 

Forth gush the flowers and fresh leaves of the tree, 

And I had planned, with wonder and with mirth — 

The bird, the nest, the blossom, and the bee 

To fill thy boyish bosom — till its glee 

O'er flowed my own with transport 1 In far years 



236 SOLACE FOft BEREAVED PARENTS.' 

I felt thy hand in mine, by stream and lea, 
Wandering in gladness — But these blinding tears, 
Why will they thus gush forth, though richer hope appears ? 

Far other land thy happy feet have trod, 
Far other scenes thy tender soul has known — 
The golden city of the eternal God, 
The rainbow-splendours of the eternal throne. 
Through the pearl gate how lightly hast thou flown ! 
The streets of lucid gold — the chrysolite 
Foundations have received thee — dearest one ! 
That thought alone can break affliction's might, 
Feeling that thou art blest, my heart again is light. 

Thanks to the framer of life's mystery ! 
Thanks to the illuminator of the grave ! 
Vainly on time's obscure and tossing sea 
Hope did I seek, and comfort did I crave ; 
But He who made, neglecteth not to save — 
My child ! — thou hast allied me to the blest : 
I cannot fear what thou didst meekly brave ; 
I cannot cease to long with thee to rest ; 
And heaven is doubly heaven with thee, with thee possessed. 



THE MOURNER'S RETURN. 
BY SIR P. HESKETH FLEETWOOD, BART., M. P. 

These lines, written after accompanying the remains 
of a loved and last child from London to the family 
resting place in Lancashire, were merely intended for 
private perusal among those interested in the beautiful, 
too highly gifted deceased. — Lancaster Eng. Herald. 

" Who knoweth not, in all these, that the hand of the Lord hath 
wrought this ? In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and 
the breath of all mankind." — Job, ch. xii; 

Home of my happier days ! we meet once more, 
Yet meet we not as we have met before : — 
Alone and desolate thy hall I tread, 
Widowed and childless ! mourning o'er the dead. 
Yet murmuring not that all have passed away, 
I know 'twas right, and though I feel — obey. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 237 

There was a time recalled by clinging thought, 
When children clustered round the hearth I sought, — 
When love e'er welcomed me — when I could turn 
To clasp my treasures — not embrace an urn. 

Bright spirits ! from your angel realm above, 
If ye have watched a father's tears and love, — 
Behold him seated near the silent dead, 
Tears of too late repentance vainly shed, 
Mourning in bitterness of spirit, o'er 
Lost joys he prized not half enough before. 

All memory darkened — hope o'ercast a gloom, — 

The past, the present, and the time to come, 

All, all alike — save that, through Faith, mine eye 

Assays to pierce into Eternity ! 

Then glorious all appear ; no sin, no death, 

No sinking spirit, and no failing breath, 

No fell disease to blight each bud of joy ; 

Hope without sorrow — -peace without alloy ! 

Father of Mercies ! may redemption bring 
To my crushed soul " a healing on its wing :" 
Shed o'er me, Lord, if so thy will design, 
(For thou alone hast power) thy peace divine ; 
Blot out my sins, bend low my stubborn will, 
And — as thou hast been — be my Father still ! 

Lead me to Heaven — to those thou led'st before, 
And, through my Saviour, open mercy's door ; 
That I may feel, whate'er my sorrows be, 
M J go to them — though they come not to meP 

Rossall Hall, 



A DIRGE. 

From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. 

Weep not for her ! — Oh she was far too fair, 
Too pure to dwell on this guilt-tainted earth ! 
The sinless glory, and the golden air 

Of Zion, seemed to claim her from her birth ! 
A spirit wandering from its native zone, 
Which, soon discov'ring, took her for its own : 
Weep not for her ! 



238 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Weep not for her ! — Her span was like the sky, 
Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and bright ; 

Like flowers that know not what it is to die ; 

Like long-link' d shadeless months of Polar light ; 

Like music floating o'er a wave less lake, 

While Echo answers from the flowery brake : 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her ! — She died in early youth, 
Ere hope had lost its rich romantic hues ; 

When human bosoms seem'd the homes of truth, 
And earth still gleam'd with beauty's radiant dews, 

Her summer-prime waned not to days that freeze ; 

Her wine of life was run not to the lees : 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her ! — By fleet or slow decay, 
It never griev'd her bosom's core to mark 

The playmates of her childhood wane away ; 
Her prospects wither ; or her hopes grow dark ; 

Translated by her God, with spirits shriven, 

She passed as 'twere in smiles from earth to Heaven. 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her ! — It was not hers to feel 
The miseries that corrode amassing years, 

'Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel, 
To wander sad down Age's vale of tears, 

As whirl the wither'd leaves from Friendship's tree, 

And on earth's wintry world alone to be : 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her! — She is an angel now/ 
And treads the sapphire floors of Paradise, 

All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow, 
Sin, sorrow, suffering, banished from her eyes ; 

Victorious over death, to her appear 

The vista'd joys of Heaven's eternal year: 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her ! — Her memory is the shrine 
Of pleasing thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers, 

Calm as on windless eve the sun's decline, 
Sweet as the song of birds among the bowers ; 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 239 

Rich as a rainbow with its hues of light, 
Pure as the moonshine of an autumn night : 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her ! — There is no cause for wo ; 

But rather nerve the spirit, that it walk 
Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below, 

And from earth's low defilements keep thee back : 
So, when a few fleet severing years have flown, 
She'll meet thee at Heaven's gate — and lead thee on ! 
Weep not for her ! 



LITTLE LEONARD'S LAST " GOOD-NIGHT," 

u Good-night ! good-night ! I go to sleep," 

Murmured the little child ; — 
And, oh, the ray of heaven that broke 
On the sweet lips that faintly spoke 

That soft " Good -night !" and smiled. 

That angel-smile ! that loving look 

From the dim closing eyes ! 
The peace of that pure brow 1 but there — ■ 
Aye — on that brow, so young, so fair ! 

An awful shadow lies. 

The gloom of evening — of the boughs 

That o'er yon window wave — 
Nay, nay, within these silent walls, 
A deeper, darker shadow falls, 

The twilight of the grave. 

The twilight of the grave — for still 

Fast comes the fluttering breath — 
One fading smile, one look of love, 
A murmur, as from brooding dove — 
" Good-night !" — And this is death 1 

Oh, who hath called thee " terrible !" 

Mild angel ! most benign ! 
Could mother's fondest lullaby 
Have laid to rest more blissfully 

That sleeping babe, than thine I 



240 SOLACE FOE BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Yet this is death — the doc m for all 

Of Adam's race decreet? — 
" But this poor lamb — this little one ! 
What had the guiltless creature done V 1 

Unhappy heart ! take heed ; 

Though He is merciful as just 

Who hears that fond appeal — 
He will not break the bruised reed, 
He will not search the wounds that bleed — 

He only wounds to heal. 

" Let little children come to me," 

He cried, and to his breast 
Folded them tenderly — to-day 
He calls thine unshorn lamb away 

To that securest rest ! 

Blackwood. 



THE INFANT'S MINIATURE. 

Yes ! thou are here, my sainted babe ! 

Thy lustrous eyes of blue — 
The long dark fringe which o'er them sleep, 

As silken curtains drew — 
The full red lip, the dimpled cheek, 

The polished, lofty brow — 
The matchless smile that lighted all— 

They're here before me now. 

Yet years, long years, have passed away, 

Since I, a mother blest, 
And thou, a babe too fair for earth, 

Didst nestle to this breast. 
Thy rosy dreams were not more sweet 

Than were the moments then ; 
But all their joys are numbered now 

With pleasures that have been. 

The most that I retain of thee 

Is one small sunny curl ; 
A treasure I would not exchange 

For ocean's rarest pearl ; 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 241 

Though this bright picture, true to life, 

Recalls thy infant charms 
So vividly, I seem again 

To clasp thee in my arms. 

'Tis beautiful to look upon — 

But only doth portray 
The casket, which a jewel held 

That God hath borne away ; 
For shining in His dazzling crown, 

Is many an infant gem, 
And he required this precious one 

To deck that diadem. 

And O ! to paint a cherub soul, 

In vain the artist tries ! 
For this, his pencil must be dipped 

In azure of the skies ; 
Borrow the rainbow's hue, and make 

The glittering stars its own ; 
For angel beauty never yet 

In earthly colours shone. 

So let me think of thee, my babe ! 

As when thou wert of earth ; 
And, like this picture, radiant with 

The smiles, of infant mirth, 
Forget the dismal hour when God 

Recalled what he had given, 
And hope to see thee as thou art, 

And claim thee still in heaven ! 



THE LOVED AND LOST. 

Time hath not power to bear away 

Thine image from the heart, 
No scenes that mark life's onward way 

Can bid it hence depart. 
Yet, while our souls with anguish riven. 

Mourn, loved and lost, for thee, 
We raise our tearful eyes to heaven, 

And joy that thou art free. 
21 



242 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

We miss thee from the band so dear, 

That gathers round our hearth, 
We listen still thy voice to hear 

Amid our household mirth — 
We gaze upon thy vacant chair, 

Thy form we seem to see, 
We start to find thou art not there, 

Yet joy that thou art free. 

A thousand old, familiar things, 

Within our childhood's home, 
Speak of the cherished, absent one, 

Who never more shall come. 
They wake with mingled bliss and pain 

Fond memories of thee. 
But would we call thee back again % 

We joy that thou art free ! 

Amid earth's conflict, wo and care, 

When dark our path appears, 
'Tis sweet to know, thou canst not share 

Our anguish and our tears — 
That on thy head no more shall fall 

The storms we may not flee — 
Yes, safely sheltered from them all. 

We joy that thou art free. 

For thou hast gained a brighter land, 

And death's cold stream is past — 
Thine are the joys at God's right hand, 

That shall forever last : 
A crown is on thine angel brow, 

Thine eye the King doth see, 
Thy home is with the seraphs now — 

We joy that thou art free ! 



HYMN AT THE BURIAL OF AN EMIGRANT'S CHILD. 

BY MRS. HEMANS. 



Where the long reeds quiver, 
Where the pines make moan, 

By the forest river, 
Sleeps our babe alone. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 243 

England's field-flowers may not deck his grave, 
Cyprus shadows o'er him darkly wave. 

Woods unknown receive him, 

'Midst the mighty wild ; 
Yet with God we leave him, 
Blessed, blessed child ! 
And our tears gush o'er his lonely dust, 
Mournfully, yet still from hearts of trust, 

Though his eye hath brightened 

Oft our weary way, 
And his clear laugh lightened 
Half our heart's dismay ; 
Still in hope we give back what was given, 
Yielding up the beautiful to heaven, 

And to her who bore him, 

Her who long must weep, 
Yet shall heaven restore him 
From his pale sweet sleep ! 
Those blue eyes of love and peace again 
Through her soul will shine, undimmed by pain, 

Where the long reeds quiver. 

Where the pines make moan, 
Leave me by the river, 
Earth to earth alone ! 
God and Father ! may our journeyings on 
Lead to where the blessed boy is gone. 

From the exile's sorrow, 

From the wanderer's dread 
Of the night and morrow, 
Early, brightly fled ; 
Thou hast called him to a sweeter home, 
Than our lost one o'er the ocean's foam, 

Now let thought behold him 

With his angel look, 
Where those arms enfold him, 
Which benignly took 
Israel's babes to their good Shepherd's breast, 
When his voice their tender meekness blest. 



244 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Turn thee now, fond mother ! 

From thy dead, oh, turn ! 
Linger not, young brother, 
Here to dream and mourn : 
Only kneel once more around the sod, 
Kneel and bow submissive hearts to God ! 



TO A DEPARTED CHILD. 

Thou art gone ! my precious one ! 

Gone to the spirit land ! 
Methinks I see thee there 

Amid the angelic band ; 
Removed from earth away, 

Ere a tear had dimm'd thine eyes, 
To live and sing and stray, 

7 Mid the flowers of Paradise. 

But I would not call thee back 

To sin, and grief, and pain. 
To tread life's thorny path, 

With her sorrowing sons again ; 
For it is a cheerless way, 

And a thousand ills are near, 
And every joy its sadness hath, 

And every smile its tear. 

Thou art gone ! the laughing eye 

Shall beam no more for me — 
No more thy mother's heart shall wake 

To that voice of childish glee. 
And he who blest thee oft, 

His future pride and joy, 
No more shall twine thy sunny curls, 

And bless his darling boy. 

Yet that eye of love, again 

On my longing sight shall beam, 

And the little hand shall clasp my own, 
In my soothing nightly dream. 

And oft that thrilling tone 
Will haunt my §oul at even, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 245 

When I sit and weep alone, 

Like a spirit's voice from heaven, 

Farewell ! my gentle boy ! 

Soft be thy cradle bed ! 
And soft the winds that sigh 

At eve, around thy head ! 
Sweet be the early flowers 

That spring upon thy breast, 
And kind, and true, the angel-bands, 

That guard thy lonely rest, 



THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD. 

An angel form with brow of light, 

Watch'd o'er a sleeping infant's dream. 

And gazed, as though his image bright 
He there beheld as in a stream. 

a Fair child, whose face is like to mine, 
Oh come," he said, " and fly with me ; 

Come forth to happiness divine, 
For earth is all unworthy thee. 

<c Here perfect bliss thou canst not know ; 

The soul amidst its pleasures sighs. 
All sounds of joy are full of woe, 

Enjoyments are but miseries. 

u Fear stalks amidst the gorgeous shows : 
And tho' serene the day may rise, 

It lasts not brilliant to its close, 

And tempests sleep in calmest skies. 

u Alas ! shall sorrow, doubts and fears 
Deform a brow so pure as this !— 

And shall the bitterness of tears 

Dim those blue eyes that speak of bliss ! 

" No, no ! along the realms of space, 
Far from all care, let us begone ; 

Kind Providence shall give thee grace 
For those few years thou might' st live on, 

91* 



246 SOLACE FOR^BEREAVED PARENTS. 

u No mourning weeds, no sounds of wail 
Thy chainless spirit shall annoy ; 

Thy kindred shall thy absence hail. 
Even as thy coming gave them joy. 

" No cloud on any brow shall rest, 

Nought speak of tombs or sadness there ; 

Of beings, like thee, pure and blest, 
The latest hour should be most fair." 

The angel shook his snowy wings 
And thro' the fields of ether sped, 

Where heaven's eternal music rings — 
Mother — alas ! — thy boy is dead ! 



THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF. 

MRS. HEMANS. 

K Oh ! call my brother back to me, 

I cannot play alone, 
The summer comes with flower and bee, — 

Where is my brother gone % 

" The butterfly is glancing bright 

Across the sunbeam's track ; 
I care not now to chase its flight — 

Oh ! call my brother back ! 

" The flowers run wild — the flowers we sowed 

Around our garden-tree ; 
Our vine is drooping with its load- — 

Oh ! call him back to me !" 

" He would not hear thy voice, fair child ! 

He may not come to thee ; 
The face that once like spring-time smiled, 

On earth no more thou'lt see. 

u A rose's brief, bright light of joy, 

Such unto him was given ; 
Go ! thou must play alone, my boy ! 

Thy brother is in heaven." 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 247 

u And has he left his birds and flowers ? 

And must I call in vain ? 
And through the long, long summer hours, 

Will he not come again ? 

" And by the brook, and in the glade, 

Are all our wanderings o'er? — 
Oh ! while my brother with me played, 

Would I had loved him more r 



GONE— BUT NOT LOST. 

BY MRS. ELLEN STONE. 

Sweet bud of Earth's wilderness, rifled and torn ! 
Fond eyes have wept o'er thee, fond hearts still will mourn 
The spoiler hath come, with his cold withering breath, 
And the loved and the cherished lies silent in death. 

He felt not the burden and heat of the day ! 
He hath pass'd from this earth, and its sorrows, away, 
With the dew of the morning yet fresh on his brow : — 
Sweet bud of Earth's wilderness, where art thou now? 

And oh ! do ye question, with tremulous breath, 
Why the joy of your household lies silent in death? 
Do ye mourn round the place of his perishing dust? 
Look onward and upward, with holier trust ! 

Who cometh to meet him, with light on her brow ? 
What angel form greets him so tenderly now? 
fis the pure sainted mother, springs onward to bear 
The child of her love from this region of care ! 

She beareth him on to that realm of repose, 
Where no cloud ever gathers, no storm ever blows : 
For the Saviour calls home to the mansions above, 
This frail trembling floweret in mercy and love. 

There shall he for ever, unchanged by decay, 

Beside the still waters and green pastures stray ; 

And there shall ye join him, with earth's ransom'd host — 

Look onward and upward ! " he's gone — but not lost /" 



248 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

OH ! SAY NOT 'TWERE A KEENER BLOW. 

T. II. BAYLY. 

Oh ! say not 'twere a keener blow 

To lose a child of riper years. 
You cannot feel a mother's woe, 

You cannot dry a mother's tears : 
The girl who rears a sickly plant, 

Or cherishes a wounded dove, 
Will love them most while most they want 

The watchfulness of love ! 

Time must have changed that fair young brow ! 

Time might have changed that spotless heart ! 
Years might have taught deceit — but now 

In love's confiding dawn we part ! 
Ere pain or grief had wrought decay, 

My babe is cradled in the tomb : 
Like some fair blossom torn away 

Before its perfect bloom. 

With thoughts of peril and of storm, 

We see a bark first touch the wave ; 
But distant seems the whirlwind's form, 

As distant— as an infant's grave ! 
Though all is calm, that beauteous ship 

Must brave the whirlwind's rudest breath ; 
Though all is calm, that infant's lip 

Must meet the kiss of death ! 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF AN ONLY DAUGHTER^ 

EY MRS. A. L. ANGIER. 

" I cannot feel that she is dead !" With arms about me fluno*. 
Like some bright jewel round my neck, but yesterday she 

hung. 
I cannot feel that she is dead ! And oft with throbbing ear 
I list to catch her shout of mirth I loved so well to hear. 

I cannot feel that she is dead ! And at her cradle side 
I bend, to watch her gentle breath — my blessing and my 
pride ! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 249 

I cannot feel that she is dead ! This ringlet is as fair 
As when upon her sunny brow it fell in beauty there. 

I cannot feel that she is dead ! Her shadow passes by, 
In every form of grace that glides before my wakeful eye-. 
And when I sleep, a vision bright across my fancy steals : 
The smile, the tone, the look of love, my early loss reveals. 

Once more her fairy foot I hear tread lightly on the stair, 

And I almost answer to the call, breathed from those lips of 
air. 

The rose still blooms, she fondly nursed in spring's soft, ver- 
nal hours ; 

Alas ! that she should soanest fade, the fairest of the flowers, 

Yet, Mother, though thy child be dead, light through thy 

darkness streams, 
As on the ear a low voice fails, like music in our dreams. 
To soothe thy sadness, quell thy grief, and check thy tears 

'tis given, 
While thus it whispers — " I have found a belter home in 

heaven. 

" And, loved ones, as ye watched o'er me, and chased away 

my fears, 
'Tis mine your spirit-guard to be through this dark vale of 

tears. 
To shield from sorrow, save from ill, and fix your hopes 

above — 
'Tis this shall be my task of joy, my ceaseless work of love ; 

Till in the realm of cloudless light, the pure, blest spirit- 
land, 

Where no sad thought of parting comes, you join our 
seraph band." 



FROM THE PERSIAN. 

SIR W. JONES. 



On parent knees, a naked, new-born child, 
Weeping thou sat'st, while all arourfd thee smiled : 
So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep, 
Calm thou may'st smile, when all around thee weep, 



250 ' SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS* 

THE MOTHER'S SACRIFICE. 

" God loveth a cheerful giver." 
MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 

u What shall I render Thee, Father Supreme, 
For thy rich gifts, and this the best of all V 7 
Said the young mother, as she fondly watched 
Her sleeping babe. There was an answering voice 
That night in dreams : — 

" Thou hast a tender flower 
Upon thy breast; — fed with the dews of love : 
Send me that flower. Such flowers there are in heaven." 
But there was silence. Yea, a hush so deep, 
Breathless and terror-stricken, that the lip 
Blanched in its trance. 

" Thou hast a little harp, — - 
How sweetly would it swell the angel's hymn ! 
Yield me that harp." 

There rose a shuddering sob, 
As if the bosom by some hidden sword 
Was cleft in twain. 

Morn came — a blight had found 
The crimson velvet of the unfolding bud, 
The harp-strings rang a thrilling strain, and broke — 
And that young mother lay upon the earth 
In childless agony. Again the voice 
That stirred her vision : 

" He who asked of thee, 
Loveth a cheerful giver." So she raised 
Her gushing eyes, and, ere the tear-drop dried 
Upon its fringes, smiled — and that meek smile, 
Like Abraham's faith, was counted righteousness. 



DEATH OF AN INFANT SON. 

From the Scottish Christian Herald. 

Farewell, my boy, my much lov'd boy ! 

Tears oft shffll flow for thee ; 
And while this broken heart shall beat 

Thou'lt ne'er forgotten be, 






SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 251 

No laughing welcome greets me now. 

As I approach the door ; 
Thy footsteps light are heard no more 

Upon the parlour floor. 

Thy merry voice, resounding full 

Of mirthful song and glee, 
Is silent now, — no more thou'lt smile 

Upon thy father's knee. 

Thy little chair is empty now 

At our once gladsome hearth ; 
And all is sad and gloomy now, 

Where all was joy and mirth. 

But oh ! he only sleeps ; look there, — 

How beautiful my boy ! 
His lips are red, — he slumbers, love, — 

It is indeed my boy. 

Come near, — his golden ringlets bind, 

And softly, sweetly sing, 
As thou wert wont to do, my love ; 

O strike the sweetest string. 

And he will smile to thee, his mother, 

When he awakes again, 
And clasp thee in his little arms, 

And make thee glad again. 

And yet he sleepeth long, love, — 

Fear cometh on me now : 
Ah ! feel that cheek, — 'tis cold, 'tis cold,— 

And colder still that brow ! 

" Thou said'st he slept,— -0 why deceive V 

Yes ! he but sleepeth still, 
But 'tis the sleep of death, my love,— 

It is our Father's will. 

Oh ! come with me, then, to His thronej 

And rev'rently adore, 
And kiss the Almighty hand that 

Afflicteth us so sore. 



252 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS- 

And, oh ! He'll bless and comfort us, 

He'll not forsake us now, 
When waters deep encompass us, 

And Death hath bent his bow. 

And tho' by Babel's streams we weep, 
And think how glad we've been ; 

Altho' our harps in silence hang 
Upon the willows green ; 

O still our God will gracious be : 

Forsake us will Fie never, 
Till we in Zion dwell with 

Our little one — for ever. 



ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT NEPHEW. 
REV. C. NEALE. 

Whilst there was hope I wept and prayed ; 
For weeping, praying, still I said, 
Who knows if He above may spare 
The child of bitter tears and prayer ? 

The child is dead. How short an hour 
Hath dimmed the radiance of that flower ! 
In vain I wept, in vain I prayed ; 
The child, the dearly loved, is dead. 

In vain thy weeping, praying? — no: 
It is thy Father ; say not so ; 
That prayer, that silent agony, 
If not for him was heard for thee. 

Is there not virtue in this hour ? 
Affliction hath a holy power : 
7 Tis then that faith best shows its worth, 
As the bruised leaf breathes fragrance forth. 

Once more the child of so much love, 
Hath joined thy family above ; 
And rising, vanishing from view, 
Calls thy affection upward too. ^ 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 253 

LINES TO THE MEMORY OF A BELOVED CHILD, 

From the Banner of Ulster. 
H. BROWN. 

Sweet floweret, on the wastes of time 

Thy blossoms were unfolding fair — 
Now gathered to a brighter clime, 

To bloom in lasting beauty there. 

Dear little one, thine hour was brief — 

Young traveller in the vale of woe, 
Thy lips but kissed the cup of grief, 

And bade farewell to all below. 

The Summer beauty decks the grave 

Where sleeps the all that earth could claim ; 

And love, fond love, alone could save, 
And brood above thy cherish'd name. 

A father's heart may lonely weep, 

When gazing on thy lowly tomb ; 
Yet turns from where thine ashes sleep, 

And heaven's own light dispels the gloom. 

But oh ! a mother's spirit hung 

O'er her last pledge of earthly love, 
And, while attending, angels sung, 

Welcom'd her dear one home above. 



LOW SHE LIES, WHO BLEST OUR EYES, 
MRS. NORTON. 

Low she lies, who blest our eyes 

Through many a sunny day ; 
She may not smile, she will not rise, — 

The life hath past away ! 
Yet there is a world of light beyond, 

Where we neither die nor sleep ; 
She is there of whom our souls were fond, — 

Then wherefore do we weep ? 

22 



254 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

The heart is cold, whose thoughts were told 

In each glance of her glad bright eye ; 
And she lies pale, who was so bright 

She scarce seem'd made to die. 
Yet we know that her soul is happy now, 

Where the saints their calm watch keep ; 
That angels are crowning that fair young brow, — 

Then wherefore do we weep % 

Her laughing voice made all rejoice, 

Who caught the happy sound ; 
There was a gladness in her very step, 

As it lightly touched the ground. 
The echoes of voice and step are gone, 

There is silence still and deep ; 
Yet we know she sings by God's bright throne, — 

Then wherefore do we weep % 

The cheek's pale tinge, the lid's dark fringe, 

That lies like a shadow there, 
Were beautiful in the eyes of all, — 

And her glossy golden hair ! 
But though that lid may never wake 

From its dark and dreamless sleep ; 
She is gone where young hearts do not break,— 

Then wherefore do we weep % 

That world of light with joy is bright, 

This is a world of woe : 
Shall we grieve that her soul hath taken flight, 

Because we dwell below? 
We will bury her under the mossy sod, 

And one long bright tress we'll keep; 
We have only given her back to God, — 

Ah ! wherefore do we weep % 






THE THREE LITTLE GRAVES. 

BY MRS. SIGOURNEY. 

I sought at twilight's pensive hour 
The path which mourners tread, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 255 

Where many a marble stone reveals 

The City of the dead;— 
The City of the Dead, where all 

From feverish toil repose, 
While round their beds, the simple flower, 

In sweet profusion blows. 

And there I marked a pleasant spot 

Enclosed with tender care, 
Where side by side three infants lay, 

The only tenants there, — 
Nor weed, nor bramble rais'd its head 

To mar the hallowed scene, 
And 'twas a mother's tears, methought, 

Which kept that turf so green. 

The eldest was a gentle girl, 

She sunk as rose-buds fall, 
And then too little brothers came, 

They were their parents' all, — 
Their parents' all! — and ah, how oft 

The moan of sickness rose. 
Before, within these narrow mounds, 

They found a long repose. 

Their cradle sports beside the hearth, 

At winter's eve, are o'er ; 
Their tuneful tones, so full of mirth, 

Delight the ear no more : — 
Yet still the thrilling echo lives, 

And many a lisping word 
Is treasur'd in affection's heart, 

By grieving memory stirr'd. 

Three little graves ! — Three little graves ! 

Come hither ye who see 
Your blooming babes around you smile, 

A blissful company, — 
And of those childless parents think 

With sympathizing pain, 
And soothe them with a Saviour's words, 

" Your dead shall rise again," 



256 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



THEY ARE NOT THERE ! 

They are not there ! where onee their feet 
Light answer to the music beat ; 
Where their young voices sweetly breathed, 
And fragrant flowers they lightly wreathed. 
Still flows the nightingale's sweet song ; 
Still trail the vine's green shoots along ; 
Still are the sunny blossoms fair ; — 
But they who loved them are not there ! 

They are not there ! by the lone fount. 
That once they loved at eve to haunt ; 
Where, when the day-star brightly set, 
Beside the silver waves, they met. 
Still lightly glides the quiet stream ; 
Still o'er it falls the soft moon-beam ; — 
But they who used their bliss to share 
With loved hearts by it, are not there ! 

They are not there ! by the dear hearth, 
That once beheld their harmless mirth ; 
Where, through their joy came no vain fear. 
And o'er their smiles no darkening tear, 
It burns not now a beacon star ; 
'Tis cold and fireless, as they are : 
Where is the glow it used to wear ? 
' Tis felt no more — they are not there ! 

Where are they, then 1 oh ! passed away, 
Like blossoms withered in a day ! 
Or, as the waves go swiftly by, 
Or, as the lightnings cleave the sky. 
But still there is a land of rest : 
Still hath it room for many a guest ; 
Still is it free from strife and care ; — 
And 'tis our hope that they are there ! 



AN INDIAN MOTHER'S LOVE, 

Os-he-oau-mai, the wife of Little Wolf, one of the 
Iowa Indians, died while in Paris, of an affection of 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 257 

the lungs, brought on by grief for the death of her 
young child in London. Her husband was unremit- 
ting in his endeavours to console, and restore her to the 
love of life, but she constantly replied — u No ! no ! my 
four children recall me. I see them by the side of the 
Great Spirit. They stretch out their arms to me, and 
are astonished that I do not join them." 

No ! no ! I must depart 
From earth's pleasant scenes, for they but wake 
Those thrilling memories of the lost which shake 

The life sands from my heart. 

Why do ye bid me stay ? 
Should the rose linger when the young buds die. 
Or the tree flourish when the branches lie. 

Stricken by sad decay ? 

Doth not the parent dove, 
When her young nurslings leave their lowly home 
And soar on joyous wings to heaven's blue dome, 

Fly the deserted grove ? 

Why then should I remain 1 
Have I not seen my sweet-voiced warblers soar, 
So far away that Love's fond wiles no more 

May lure them back again ? 

They cannot come to me ; 
But I may go to them — and as the flower 
Awaits the dewy eve, I wait the hour 

That sets my spirit free. 

Hark ! heard ye not a sound 
Sweeter than wild-bird's note or minstrel's lay ? 
I know that music well, for night and day 

I hear it echoing round. 

It is the tuneful chime 
Of spirit voices ! — 'tis my infant band 
Calling the mourner from this darkened land 

To joy's unclouded clime. 

99* 



258 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

My beautiful, my blest ! 
I see them there, by the Great Spirit's throne ; 
With winning words and fond beseeching tone 

They woo me to my rest. 

They chide my long delay, 
And wonder that I linger from their home ; 
They stretch their loving arms to bid me come — 

Now would ye have me stay ? E. S. S. 



AN INFANT'S SPIRIT. 

An infant's soul — the sweetest thing on earth, 
To which endowments beautiful are given, 
As might befit a more than mortal birth — 
What shall it be, when, 'midst its winning mirth, 
And love, and trustfulness, 'tis borne to heaven. 
Will it grow into might above the skies ? 
A spirit of high wisdom, glory, power — 
A cherub guard of the Eternal Tower, 
With knowledge filled of its vast mysteries? 
Or will perpetual childhood be its dower ? 
To sport forever, a bright, joyous thing, 
Amid the wonders of the shining thrones, 
Yielding its praise in glad, but feeble tones, 
A tender love beneath the Almighty's wing. 



ON SEEING AN INFANT PREPARED FOR THE GRAVE. 
MRS. SIG0URNEY. 

Go to thy sleep, my child, 

Go to thy dreamless bed, — 
Gentle and undeflled, 

With blessings on thy head : — 
Fresh roses in thy hand, 

Buds on thy pillow laid, 
Haste from this fearful land 

Where flowers so quickly fade. 

Before thy heart had learn'd 
In waywardness to stray, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 259 

Before thy feet had turn'd 

The dark and downward way ; 
Ere Sin had sear'd thy breast, 

Or Sorrow woke the tear, 
Rise to thy home of rest 

In yon celestial sphere. 

Because thy smile was fair, 

Thy lip and eye so bright ; 
Because thy cradle-care 

Was such a fond delight, 
Shall Love with weak embrace 

Thy outspread wing detain % 
No ! — Angels, — seek thy place 

Amid the cherub train. 



THE EARLY DEAD. 

" I saw a drop whose trembling ray 
Was bosomed by a flower — 

A sunbeam bore the gem away, 

But Fancy in its airy sway, 

Pursued it to a brighter day — 

Gilding a fairer bower." — H. K. White. 

I mark'd, where late a blossom grew, 
In all the pride of young delight, 

Its petals bore the morning dew, 

And quafF'd the nectar-springs of night. 

The culturing touch of love had given 
This moral flower a softened grace ; 

And o'er it shone the light of heaven — 
The glow of hope — the seal of truth — 

Though desolation's hand had striven 
To mar it, in its tender youth ! 

Since withering grass and fading flower 

Are fitting types of man's brief hour ! 

The tempest pours its chilling blast — 
The wild winds echo as they pass — 
And when their wrath is borne away, 
Uptorn from earth their victims lay ! ! 



260 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Again, I mark'd the parent stem- 
Shorn was it of its treasured boast— 

The perish'd bud ne'er bloom'd again— 
And yet its fragrance was not lost — 

Translated to a higher sphere, 

It found perennial beauty there ! 

I saw a gem of promise fair — 
Enshrin'd within its casket rare. 
A hand of might unclasp'd this token — 
And lo ! the gem was crushed and broken ! 
But still its glittering fragments lay 
Reflecting back a purer ray — 
Gem of the soul ! it soars above, 
To bask in the Redeemer's love ! ! 



THE EARLY CALLED. 

The light of the setting sun 

Fell on the heaving sea, 
And the shriek of the sea-bird hastening home, 

Came faintly and mournfully ; 
And sadly the fitful wind did Avail 

As the twilight waned away, 
And before the light was lost in night, 

A mortal had changed to clay. 

The flush of a summer cloud 

Hung over the gorgeous west, 
As a mantle of glorious hue, to shroud 

The close of the day of rest. 
Or ever the stream of the sunset gleam 

Was lost in the gloom of even, 
Another harp to the Saviour's praise 

Was heard in the courts of heaven. 

Cold grows her glorious brow 

With the chilling dew of death ; 
The sunny eye fades mournfully, 

The heavy lid beneath. 
Hushed the melodious lip ; 

Fainter the pulse— now gone ! 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 261 

And another mourner lives to tread 
Life's pilgrimage alone. 

With a solemn step and slow, 

Come to the place of prayer ! 
The words of life, the song of death, 

She never more may hear. 
Room in the sepulchre ! 

Room underneath the sod ! 
The mould is pressed on the bounding breast, 

The sainted one's with God ! 

The sun shall rise and set, 

The stars shall flicker and fade, 
And one by one, beneath the stone, 

We shall to rest be laid. 
What matters it whether we sink to sleep 

Lull'd by the murmuring billow, 
Or whether we die on land, and lie 

With the clod for our only pillow % 

From the earth and the mighty sea, 

The dead shall thronging come, 
When that wrathful day shall melt away 

The fetters of the tomb. 
Then to the loved and lost 

Shall a crown of light be given, 
And the cherished here shall triumph there : 

Meet ye the dead in heaven ! 



MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH? 
CAROLINE GILMAN. 

u Mother, how still the baby lies ! 

I cannot hear his breath ; 
1 cannot see his laughing eyes— 

They tell me this is death. 



My little work I thought to bring, 
And sat down by his bed, 

And pleasantly I tried to sing — 
They hushed me — he is dead. 



262 SOLACE* FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

: They say that he again will rise, 

More beautiful than now ; 
That God will bless him in the skies — 

O, mother, tell me how !" 

u Daughter, do you remember, dear, 
> The cold, dark thing you brought, 
And laid upon the casement here, — 
A withered worm, you thought? 

I told you that Almighty power 
Could break that withered shell, 

And show you, in a future hour, 
Something would please you well. 

Look at the chrysalis, my love, — 

An empty shell it lies ; 
Now raise your wondering glance above, 

To where yon insect flies !" 

" O, yes, mamma ! how very gay 

Its wings of starry gold ! 
And see ! it lightly flies away 

Beyond my gentle hold. 

O, mother, now I know full well, 
If God that worm can change, 

And draw it from this broken cell, 
On golden wings to range, — 

How beautiful will brother be, 
When God shall give him wings, 

Above this dying world to flee, 
And live with heavenly things !" 



A BUTTERFLY AT A CHILD'S GRAVE. 
LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. 

A butterfly basked on an infant's grave, 

Where a lily had chanced to grow ; 
Why art thou here with thy gaudy dye, 
Where she of the bright and the sparkling eye 
Must sleep in the churchyard low ? 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 263 

Then it lightly soared through the sunny air, 

And spoke from its shining track : 
I was a worm till I won my wings, 
And she whom thou mourn' st, like a seraph sings — 

Wouldst thou call the blest one back ? 



THOUGHTS WHILE MAKING A GRAVE FOR A FIRST 



CHILD, BORN DEAD. 



N. P. WILLIS. 



Room, gentle flowers ! my child would pass to heaven ! 

Ye looked not for her yet with your soft eyes, 

O, watchful ushers at Death's narrow door ! 

But lo ! while you delay to let her forth, 

Angels, beyond, stay for her ! One long kiss 

From lips all pale with agony, and tears, 

Wrung after anguish had dried up with fire 

The eyes that wept them, were the cup of life 

Held as a welcome to her. Weep, O mother ! 

But not that from this cup of bitterness 

A cherub of the sky has turned away. 

One look upon her face ere she depart ! 
My daughter ! it is soon to let thee go ! 
My daughter ! with thy birth has gushed a spring 
I knew not of; filling my heart with tears, 
And turning with strange tenderness to thee ! 
A love — O, God, it seems so — which must flow 
Far as thou fleest, and 'twixt Heaven and me, 
Henceforward, be a sweet and yearning chain. 
Drawing me after thee ! And so farewell ! 
J Tis a harsh world in which affection knows 
No place to treasure up its loved and lost 
But the lone grave ! Thou, who so late was sleeping 
Warm in the close folds of a mother's heart, 
Scarce from her breast a single pulse receiving, 
But it was sent thee with some tender thought — 
How can I leave thee here ! Alas, for man ! 
The herb in its humility may fall. 
And waste into the bright and genial air, 
While we, by hands that ministered in life 
Nothing but love to us, are thrust away, 



264 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

The earth thrown in upon our j ust cold bosoms, 
And the warm sunshine trodden out forever ! 
Yet have I chosen for thy grave, my child, 
A bank where I have lain in summer hours, 
And thought how little it would seem like death 
To sleep amid such loveliness. The brook 
Tripping with laughter down the rocky steps 
That lead us to thy bed, would still trip on, 
Breaking the dread hush of the mourners gone ; 
The birds are never silent that build here, 
Trying to sing doAvn the more vocal waters ; 
The slope is beautiful with moss and flowers ; 
And, far below, seen under arching leaves, 
Glitters the warm sun on the village spire, 
Pointing the living after thee. And this 
Seems like a comfort, and, replacing now 
The flowers that have made room for thee, I go 
To whisper the same peace to her who lies 
Robbed of her child, and lonely. 'Tis the work 
Of many a dark hour, and of many a prayer, 
To bring the heart back from an infant gone ! 
Hope must give o'er, and busy fancy blot 
Its images from all the silent rooms, 
And every sight and sound familiar to her 
Undo its sweetest link ; and so, at last, 
The fountain that, once loosed, must flow forever, 
Will hide and waste in silence. When the smile 
Steals to her pallid lip again, and spring 
Wakens its buds above thee, we will come, 
And, standing by thy music-haunted grave, 
Look on each other cheerfully, and say, 
A child that we have loved is gone to heaven^ 
And by this gate offloivers she passed away ! 



TO A DYING CHILD. 

Sweet child, that wasted form, 

That pale and mournful brow, 
O'er which thy long, dark tresses 

In shadowy beauty flow- 
That eye, whence soul is darting 
With such strange brilliancy, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 265 

Tell us thou art departing— 
This world is not for thee. 

No ! not for thee is woven 

That wreath of joy and woe, 
That crown of thorns and flowers, 

Which all must wear below ! 
We bend in anguish o'er thee, 

Yet feel that thou art blessed, 
Loved one, so early summoned 

To enter into rest. 

Soon shall thy bright young spirit 

From earth's cold chains be free ; 
Soon shalt thou meet that Saviour, 

Who gave himself for thee. 
Soon shalt thou be rejoicing, 

Unsullied as thou art, 
In the blessed vision promised 

Unto the pure in heart. 

Yes, thou art going home. 

Our Father's face to see, 
In perfect bliss and glory ; 

But we, O, where are we ? 
While that celestial country 

Thick clouds and darkness hide, 
In a strange land of exile, 

Still, still must we abide. 

O Father of our spirits, 

We can but look to thee ; 
Though chastened, not forsaken, 

Shall we thy children be. 
We take the cup of sorrow, 

As did thy blessed Son — 
Teach us to say with Jesus, 

" Thy will, not ours, be done !" 
23 



266 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

A PSALM OF DEATH. 

THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. 

Henry W. Longfellow. 

" Dear, beauteous Death ! the jewel of the just 

Shining no where but in the dark, 
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, 

Could we outlook that mark !" 

There is a Reaper whose name is Death, 

And with his sickle keen, 
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, 

And the flowers that grow between. 

u Shall I have nought that is fair," saith he : 
" Have nought but the bearded grain ? 

Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, 
I will give them all back again." 

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, 

He kissed their drooping leaves ; 
It was for the Lord of Paradise 

He bound them in his sheaves. 

" My Lord hath need of the flowerets gay," 

The Reaper said, and smiled : 
u Dear tokens of the earth are they, 

Where he was once a child." 

" They shall all bloom in fields of light, 

Transplanted by my care, 
And saints upon their garments white 

These sacred blossoms wear." 

And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 

The flowers she most did love ; 
But she knew she would find them all again, 

In the fields of light above. 

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 

The Reaper came that day : 
'Twas an angel visited the green earth. 

And took the flowers away. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 267 



TO A DYING INFANT. 

Sleep, little baby ! sleep ! 
Not in thy cradle bed, 
Not on thy mother's breast 
Henceforth shall be thy rest, 

But with the quiet dead. 

Yes — with the quiet dead, 
Baby, thy rest shall be. 
Oh ! many a weary heart, 
Weary of life's dull part, 

Would fain lie down with thee. 

Flee, little tender nursling ! 
Flee to thy grassy nest ; 
There the first flowers shall blow, 
The first pure flakes of snow 

Shall fall upon thy breast. 



ON A FAIR INFANT. 
MILTON. 

O fairest flower, no sooner shown than blasted, 
Soft, silken primrose, fading timelessly, 

Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst outlasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry ; 
For he, being amorous on that lovely dye 

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 

But killed, alas ! and then bewailed his fatal bliss. 

Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, 

Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb. 

Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed, 
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb 
Could Heaven, for pity, thee so strictly doom?— 

Oh, no ! for something in thy face did shine 

Above mortality, that showed thou wast divine. 

Ah ! wert thou of the golden-winged host, 
WhOj having clad thyself in human weed 3 



268 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 
And after short abode fly back with speed, 
As if to show what creatures heaven doth breed ; 
Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire, 
To scorn the sordid world, and unto heaven aspire. 

But, oh ! why didst thou not stay here below ? 
To bless us with thy heaven-loved innocence, 

To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe, 
To turn swift-rushing black Perdition hence, 
Or drive away the slaughtering Pestilence, 

To stand Hwixt us and our deserved smart % 

But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. 

Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child, 
Her false-imagined loss cease to lament, 

And wisely think to curb thy sorrows wild ; 
Think what a present thou to God has sent, 
And render him with patience what he lent ; 

This, if thou do, he will an offspring give, 

That, till the world's last end, shall make thy name to live. 



TO THE MEMORY OF MY CHILD. 

BY MRS. S. H. O. 

" These were redeemed from among men, being the first fruits unto 
God, and to the Lamb." — Rev. xiv. 4. 

Redeemed from earth, my gentle child, 

Now thou art of that seraph band, 
The pure in heart, the undefiled, 

Who roam the bright immortal land. 
By crystal streams, through flowery meads, 
Still following where the Saviour leads. 

There doth the tender bud expand, 

We watch' d with many a sigh and tear, 

Too fragile for this wintry land, 
Too pure for earth's polluted sphere. 

Twelve moons mark'd thy gentle bloom, 

The thirteenth beam'd upon thy tomb. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 269 

Sweet one ! when fondly on my breast, 

I hush'd thee to thy soft repose, 
And watched the wing of slumber rest 

On violet eye — and cheek of rose — 
While gazing on thy trusting eye, 
How could I deem that thou would'st die ! 

That thou would'st die ! and from our bower 

Withdraw the sunshine thou hadst shed, 
While grief should bid her purple flower, 

Spring up where'er our footsteps tread ; 
And hopes, and dreams, once green and high, 
Like autumn leaves should lowly lie. 

When on thy pale cold brow of snow 

I press'd the last fond kiss of love, 
Such love as only mothers know™ 

A stream, whose fountain is above, 
I felt that life was drear, and wild, 
Bereft of thee, my gentle child ! 

When kneeling by the sacred tomb, 

That held the form so prized, so dear, 
A voice dispell'd my bosom's gloom 

And whisper'd soft, she is not here ; 
Not here, not here, beyond the skies, 
Her spirit lives in Paradise. 

What rapture thrill'd through every vein, 

As faith, with eagle-piercing eye, 
Beheld her in that seraph train, 

The infant army of the sky — 
By crystal streams, by flowery meads, 
Still following where the Saviour leads, 

And now, though years have onward sped, 

Through tears and smiles, through light and gloom, 

Still memory o'er the lovely dead, 

Bids flowers of fairest verdure bloom — 

And wakes her harp all sweet, and low, 

Whence soft, delicious numbers flow. 



870 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Soft breathing tones, but not of wo, 
Though lonely is the mother's heart ; 

And time's swift flight is all too slow, 
For lov'd and cherish'd friends apart : 

Those gentle airs with hope are rife, 

And whisper of eternal life. 



FAITH AND SUBMISSION. 

Oh, Lord ! the message from thy throne has come 
We hear thy voice, and give them back to thee. 

With tears we lay our children in the tomb ; 
In faith, their spirits at thy feet we see. 

There, at the Almighty Father's hand, 

Nearest the throne of living light, 
The choirs of infant seraphs stand, 

-And dazzling shine where all are bright. 



THE MOURNING MOTHER. 

O ! who shall tell what fearful pangs 

That mother's heart are rending, 
As o'er her infant's little grave 

Her wasted form is bending ; 
From many an eye that weeps to-day 

Delight may beam to-morrow ; 
But she — her precious babe is not ! 

And what remains but sorrow % 

Bereaved one ! I may not chide 

Thy tears and bitter sobbing, — 
Weep on ! 'twill cool that burning brow, 

And still that bosom's throbbing: 
Be not thine such grief as theirs 

To whom no hope is given, — 
Snatched from the world, its sins and snares, 

Thy infant rests in heaven. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 271 

ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG GIRL. 

WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH. 

She hath gone in the spring-time of life, 

Ere her sky had been dimmed by a cloud, 
While her heart with the rapture of love was yet rife, 

And the hopes of her youth were unbowed — 
From the lovely, who loved her too well ; 

From the heart that had grown to her own ; 
From the sorrow which late o'er her young spirit fell, 

Like a dream of the night she hath flown ; 
And the earth hath received to its bosom its trust — 
Ashes to ashes, and dust unto dust. 

The spring, in its loveliness dressed, 

Will return with its music-winged hours, 
And, kissed by the breath of the sweet southwest, 

The buds shall burst out in flowers ; 
And the flowers her grave-sod above, 

Though the sleeper beneath recks it not, 
Shall thickly be strown by the hand of Love, 

To cover with beauty the spot — 
Meet emblems are they of the pure one and bright, 
Who faded and fell with so early a blight. 

Ay, the spring will return — but the blossom 

That bloomed in our presence the sweetest, 
By the spoiler is borne from the cherishing bosom, 

The loveliest of all and the fleetest ! 
The music of stream and of bird 

Shall come back when the winter is o'er ; 
But the voice that was dearest to us shall be heard 

In our desolate chambers no morel 
The sunlight of May on the waters shall quiver — 
The light of her eye hath departed forever! 

As the bird to its sheltering nest, 

When the storm on the hills is abroad, 
So her siprit hath flown from this world of unrest 

To repose on the bosom of God ! 
Where the sorrows of earth never more 

May fling o'er its brightness a stain j 



272 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Where in rapture and love it shall ever adore, 

With a gladness unmingled with pain ; 
And its thirst shall be slacked by the waters which spring, 
Like a river of light, from the throne of the King ! 

There is weeping on earth for the lost ! 

There is bowing in grief to the ground ! 
But rejoicing and praise mid the sanctified host, 

For a spirit in paradise found ! 
Though brightness hath passed from the earth, 

Yet a star is newborn in the sky, 
And a soul hath gone home to the land of its birth, 

Where are pleasures and fulness of joy! 
And a new harp is strung, and a new song is given 
To the breezes that float o'er the gardens of heaven. 



TO BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Tender guides, m sorrow weeping 

O'er your first-born's smitten bloom ; 
Or fond memory's vigil keeping 

Where the fresh turf marks her tomb. 

Ye no more shall see her bearing 
Pangs that woke the dove-like moan, 

Still for your affliction caring, 
Though forgetful of her own. 

Ere the bitter cup she tasted, 

Which the hand of care doth bring — 
Ere the glittering pearls were wasted, 

From glad childhood's fairy string — 

Ere one chain of hope had rusted, — 
Ere one wreath of joy was dead — 

To the Saviour, whom she trusted, 
Strong in faith, her spirit fled. 

Gone — where no dark sin is cherished, 

Where no woes, nor fears invade, 
Gone — ere youth's first flower had perished, 
To a youth that ne'er can fade. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 273 



DEATH OF AN INFANT. 

As the sweet flower that scents the morn. 
But withers in the rising day ; 

Thus lovely was this infant's dawn, 
Thus swiftly fled its life away. 

It died ere its expanding soul 

Had ever burnt with wrong desires, 

Had ever spurned at heaven's control, 
Or ever quench'd its sacred fires. 

It died to sin, it died to cares, 
But for a moment felt the rod : — 

O mourner ! such the Lord declares, 
Such are the children of our God ! 



ELEGY ON A BELOVED INFANT. 

Fare thee well, thou lovely stranger, 
Guardian angels take your charge ; 

Freed at once from pain and danger, 
Happy spirit set at large. 

Life's most bitter cup just tasting, 
Short thy passage to the tomb, 

O'er the barrier swiftly hasting 
To thine everlasting home. 

Death his victim still pursuing, 

Ever to his purpose true — 
Soon her placid cheek bedewing, 

Robb'd it of its rosy hue. 

Sealed those eyes, so lately beaming 
Innocence and joy, so mild, 

Every look so full of meaning 
Seemed to endear the lovely child. 

In the silent tomb we leave her, 
Till the resurrection morn ; 

When her Saviour will receive her, 
And restore her lovely form. 



274* SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

Then, dear Lord, we hope to meet her, 

In thy happy courts above ; 
There with heavenly joy to greet her, 

And resound redeeming Love ! 



"NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE." 

Friend after friend departs ; 

Who hath not lost a friend? 
There is no union here of hearts, 

That finds not here an end : 
Were this frail world our final rest, 
Living or dying none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond the reign of death, 
There surely is some blessed clime, 

Where life is not a breath ; 
Nor life's affections transient fire, 
Whose sparks fly upwards and expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown ; 
A long eternity of love, 

Formed for the good alone ; 
And faith beholds the dying here, 
Translated to that glorious sphere. 

Thus star by star declines, 

'Till all are passed away, 
As morning higher and higher shines, 

To pure and perfect day ; 
Nor sink those stars in empty night, 
But hide themselves in heaven's own light. 



THE DYING INFANT TO ITS MOTHER. 

" Cease here longer to detain me, 
Fondest mother, drown' d in woe ; 

Now thy kind caresses pain me, 
Morn advances — let me go. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 275 

See yon orient streak appearing, 

Harbinger of endless day ; 
Hark ! a voice ; the darkness cheering, 

Calls my new-born soul away. 

Lately launched a trembling stranger, 

On the world's wild boist'rous flood ; 
Pierc'd with sorrows, tossed with danger, 

Gladly I return to God. 

Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee ; 

Now my trembling heart find rest ; 
Kinder arms than thine receive me ; 

Softer pillow than thy breast. 

Weep not o'er these eyes that languish, 

Upward turning toward their home : 
Raptur'd they'll forget all anguish, 

While they wait to see thee come. 

There, my mother, pleasures centre, 

Weeping, parting, care or wo 
Ne'er our Father's house shall enter, 

Morn advances — let me go. 

As through this calm, peaceful dawning, 

Silent glides my parting breath, 
To an everlasting morning, 

Gently close my eyes in death. 

Blessings endless, richest blessings, 

Pour their streams upon thy heart ! 
Though no language yet possessing, 

Breathes my spirit ere we part. 

Yet, to leave thee sorrowing rends me, 

Though again his voice I hear ; 
Rise ! may every grace attend thee ; 

Rise ! and seek to meet me there*' 1 



276 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



A MOTHER'S GRIEF. 

To mark the sufferings of the babe, 

That cannot speak its woe ; 
To see the infant tears gush forth, 

Yet know not why they flow ; 
To meet the meek uplifted eye, 

That fain would ask relief, 
Yet can but tell of agony, — 

This is a mother's grief. 

Through dreary days and darker nights, 

To trace the march of death ; 
To hear the faint and frequent sigh, 

The quick and shorten' d breath : 
To watch the last dread strife draw near, 

And pray that struggle brief; 
Though all is ended with its close — 

This is a mother's grief! 

To see, in one short hour, decay 

The hope of future years, 
To feel how vain a father's prayer, 

How vain a mother's tears ; 
To think the cold grave now must close 

O'er what was once the chief 
Of all the treasured joys of earth — 

This is a mother's grief! 

Yet when the first wild throb is past 

Of anguish and despair, 
To lift the eye of faith to heaven, 

And think, " My child is there P 
This best can dry the gushing tears, 

This yield the heart relief; 
Until the christian's pious hope 

O'ercomes the mother's grief. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 277 



A CHILD'S DEATH 

Was never more sweetly mourned than in these 
lines, by R. B. Sheridan : — 

In some rude spot where vulgar herbage grows, 

If chance a violet rear its purple head, 
The careful gardener moves it ere it blows, 
To thrive and flourish in a nobler bed ; 
Such was thy fate, dear child, 
Thy opening such ! 
Pre-eminence in early bloom was shown ; 
For earth, too good, perhaps ; 
And lov'd too much — 
Heaven saw, and early mark'd thee for its own, 

Oh Lord ! the message from thy throne has come : 
We hear thy voice and give them back to thee ! 

With tears, we lay our children in the tomb, 
In faith, their spirits at thy feet we see. 

There, at the Almighty Father's hand, 

Nearest the throne of living light, 
The choirs of infant Seraphs stand, 

And dazzling shine where all are bright. 



ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT DAUGHTER, 

Sweet babe, she glanc'd into our world to see 
A sample of our misery ; 
Then turned away her languid eye, 
To drop a tear or two, and die. 
Sweet babe, she tasted of life's bitter cup, 
Refus'd to drink the poison up ! 
But turn'd her little head aside, 
Disgusted with the taste, and died. 
Sweet babe, she listened for a while to hear 
Our mortal griefs, then turned her ear 
To angels' harps and songs, and cried — 
To join their notes celestial, sighed and died. 

24 



378 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Sweet babe no more, but seraph now 

Before the throne, behold her bow ; 

To heavenly joys her spirit flies, 

Blest in the triumph of the skies ; 

Adores the grace that brought her there 

Without a wish — without a care ; 

That wash'd her soul in Calv'ry's stream, 

That shorten' d life's distressing dream. 

Short pain — short grief — dear babe, was thine, 

Now joys eternal and divine. 

Yes, thou art fled, and saints a welcome sing, 
Thine infant spirit soars on angels' wing ; 
Our dark affection would have hop'd thy stay, 
The voice of God has call'd His child away. 
Like Samuel, early in the temple found, 
Sweet Rose of Sharon, plant of holy ground ; 
Oh ! more than Samuel blest, to thee 'tis given, 
The God he serv'd on earth, to serve in Heaven. 



« 'TWAS BUT A BABE." 

I asked them why the verdant turf was riven 
From its young rooting, and with silent lip, 
They pointed to a new-made chasm among 
The marble-pillared mansions of the dead. 
Who goeth to his rest in yon damp couch % 
The tearless crowd past on — "'twas but a babe." 
A Babe f And poise ye in the rigid scales 
Of calculation, the fond bosom's wealth % 
Rating its priceless idols as ye weigh 
Such merchandize as moth and rust corrupt, 
Or the rude robber steals ? Ye mete out grief, 
Perchance, when youth, maturity or age, 
Sink in the thronging tomb ; but when the breath 
Grows icy on the lip of innocence, 
Repress your measured sympathies, and say, 
"'Twasbut ababe!" 

What know ye of her love, 
Who patient watcheth, till the stars grow dim, 
Over her drooping infant, with an eye 
Bright as unchanging Hope, if his repose ? 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 279 

What know ye of her woe, who sought no joy 
More exquisite, than on his placid brow 
To trace the glow of health, and drink at dawn 
The thrilling lustre of his waking smile % 

Go ask that musing father, why yon grave 
So narrow, and so noteless, might not close 
Without a tear ? 

And though his lip be mute, 
Feeling the poverty of speech, to give 
Fit answer to thee, still his pallid brow, 
And the deep agonizing prayer that loads 
Midnight's dark wing to him, the God of strength, 
Might satisfy thy question. 

Ye who mourn 
Whene'er yon vacant cradle, or the robes 
That decked the lost one's form, call back a tide 
Of alienated joy, can ye not trust 
Your treasure to his arms, whose changeless care 
Passeth a mother's love ? Can ye not hope, 
When a few hastening years their course have run, 
To go to him, though he no more on earth 
Returns to you ? 

And when glad faith doth catch 
Some echo of celestial harmonies, 
Archangels' praises, with the high response 
Of cherubim, and seraphim, oh think — - 
Think that your babe is there. 



TO MY DECEASED INFANT. 

Thou art gone to rest in a lonely bed, 
Sweet form of my precious child ! 
In the silent grave rests thy little head, 
And hushed is thy voice so mild. 

In a dreamless sleep are thine eyelids closed, 

And pale that sunny brow, 
And thy dimpled hands on thy bosom fair, 

Lie folded and quiet now. 

On my cheek no more shall thy velvet lip 

Its fond kiss of love impress, 
And thy cherished form at this heart no more 

Shall be pressedwith tenderness, 



280 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS 

Yet, O child belov'd, while my loss I mourn, 

Not a tear is shed for thee ; 
For thy soul, uncaged, has fled to its home, 

In a world of purity. 

And at Jesus' feet thou dost worship now, 

With a lovely infant throng, 
And soft music swells from thy little harp, 
And sweet is thy lisping song. 

It is joy to think that thy rest is found 
Where the skies are always bright ; 

And this heart, tho' sad, would not call thee back 
To a land of cheerless night. 

But at heaven's gate, may thy spirit pure 

Be the first to welcome me, 
When the toils of life, and its griefs are o'er, 

To a blest eternity. 

And together then, in sweet hymns of joy, 
The Redeemer's name we'll praise ; 

And thy voice, new tuned, shall teach me the song 
Thou didst- first in glory raise. 



THE MOTHER'S SOLILOQUY, 

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT SON. 

By the Rev. J. Lawson. 

Hushed be the murmuring thought ! 
Thy will be done, 

Arbiter of life and death, I bow 

To thy command. I yield the precious gift 

So late bestowed, and to the silent grave 

Move sorrowing, yet submissive. O sweet babe ! 

1 lay thee down to rest. The cold, cold earth, 
A pillow for thy little head. Sleep on 
Serene in death ! No care shall trouble thee : 
All undisturbed thou slumberest, far more still 
Than when I lulled thee in my lap, and soothed 
Thy little sorrows till they ceased. 

Then felt thy mother peace ; her heart was light 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 281 

As the sweet sigh that 'scaped thy placid lips, 

And joyous as the dimpled smile that played 

Across thy countenance. O, I must weep 

To think of thee, dear infant, on my knees 

Untroubled sleeping. Bending o'er thy form, 

I watched with eager hope to catch the laugh, 

First waking from thy sparkling eye, a beam 

Lovely to me, as the blue light of heaven ; 

Dimmed in the agony of death, it beams no more ! 

O, yet once more I kiss thy marble lips, 

Sweet babe ! and press with mine thy whitened cheeks ; 

Farewell, a long farewell ! Yet visit me 

In dreams, my darling ! Though the visioned joy 

Wake bitter pangs ; still be those in my thoughts, 

And I will cherish the dear dream, and think 

I still possess thee. Peace, my bursting heart ! 

O, I submit. Again 1 lay thee down, 

Dear relic of a mother's hope. Thy spirit, 

Now mingled with cherubic hosts, adores 

The grace that ransomed it, and lodged thee safe 

Above the stormy scene. 



ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. 

With what unknown delight the mother smiled, 
When this frail treasure in her arms she pressed ! 

Her prayer was heard — she clasped a living child ; 
But how the gift transcends the poor request ! 

A child was all she asked, with many a vow ! 

Mother — behold the child an angel now ! 

Now in her father's house she finds a place, 
Or, if to earth she takes a transient flight, 

'Tis to fulfil the purpose of his grace : 

To guide thy footsteps to the world of light ; — 

A ministering spirit sent to thee, 

That where she is, there thou may'st also be. 

24* 



282 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



ON SEEING AN INFANT AFTER DEATH. 

I saw a babe in death. 

More beautiful she seemed, 
Than when the living breath 

From every feature beamed ; 
She looked a spirit of the sky, 
Whispering, O, 'tis sweet to die ! 

Her little hands so still ; 

The alabaster cheek : 
Eyes closed, which late would fill 

With words she could not speak ; 
All told the spirit stirring change, 
How sweet, how soft, but O, how strange ! 

Ye friends, why should you weep 1 

Would I were where she is ; 
There is no earthly sleep 

So calm, so deep as this ; 
It is the bridal night, that binds 
Her spirit to the angel minds. 



THE SPIRIT'S SONG OF CONSOLATION. 

Dear parents, grieve no more for me j 

My parents, grieve no more ; 
Believe that I am happier far 

Than e'er I was before. 
I've left a world where woe and sin 

Swell onwards as a river, 
And gained a world where I shall rest 

In peace and joy for ever. 

Our Father bade me come to him, 

He gently bade me come, 
And he has made his heavenly house 

My dwelling-place and home. 
On that best day, of all the seven, 

Which saw our Saviour rise, 
I heard the voice you could not hear, 

Which called me to the skies. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 283 

I saw, too, what you could not see, 

Two beauteous angels stand ; 
They smiling stood, and looked at me, 

And beckoned with their hand ; 
They said they were my sisters dear, 

And they were sent to bear 
My spirit to their blest abode, 

To live for ever there. 

Then think not of the mournful time 

When I resigned my breath, 
Nor of the place where I was laid, 

The gloomy house of death ; 
But think of that high world, where I 

No more shall suffer pain, 
And of the time when all of us 

In heaven shall meet again. 



THE LOST DARLING. 

She was my idol. Night and day to scan 
The fine expansion of her form, and mark 
The unfolding mind, like vernal rose-bud start 
To sudden beauty, was my chief delight. 
To find her fairy footsteps follow me, 
Her hands upon my garments, or her lip 
Long sealed to mine, and in the watch of night 
The quiet breath of innocence to feel 
Soft on my cheek, was such a full content 
Of happiness, as none but mothers know. 

Her voice was like some tiny harp, that yields 
To the light fingered breeze ; and as it held 
Brief converse with her doll, or playful soothed 
The moaning kitten, or with patient care 
Conned o'er the alphabet — but most of all, 
Its tender cadence in her evening prayer 
Thrilled on the ear like some ethereal tone 
Heard in sweet dreams. 

But now alone I sit, 
Musing of her, and dew with mournful tears 
Her little robes, that once with woman's pride 
I wrought, as if there were a need to deck 



284 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

What God hath made so beautiful. I start, 



Half fancying from her empty crib there comes 
A restless sound, and breathe the accustomed words, 
" Hush ! Hush thee, dearest." Then I bend and weep- 
As though it were a sin to speak to one 
Whose home is with the angels. 

Gone to God ! 
And yet I wish I had not seen the pang 
That wrung her features, nor the ghostly white 
Settling around her lips, I would that Heaven 
Had taken its own, like some transplanted flower, 
Blooming in all its freshness. 

Gone to God ! 
Be still, my heart ! what could a mothers prayer, 
In all the wildest ecstacy of hope, 
Ask for its darling like the bliss of heaven ? 



DEATH OF AN INFANT. 

Death found strange beauty on that polished brow, 
And dashed it out. — 

There was a tint of rose 
On cheek and lip.— He touched the veins with ice, 
And the rose faded. — 

Forth from those blue eyes 
There spake a wishful tenderness, a doubt 
Whether to grieve or sleep, which innocence 
Alone may wear. With ruthless haste he bound 
The silken fringes of those curtaining lids 
Forever. — 

There had been a murmuring sound, 
With which the babe would claim its mother's ear, 
Charming her even to tears. The spoiler set 
His seal of silence. — 

But there beamed a smile 
So fixed, so holy, from that cherub brow, 
Death gazed — and left it there. 

He dared not steal 
The signet-ring of heaven. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 285 



THE MOTHER'S LAMENT. 

Those once loved voices all are still, 

In happier years so cheerful ; 
At rest is now the ecstatic thrill, 

The once fair form — how fearful ! 
All, all are laid within the grave ; 
Nor tears nor prayers e'en one could save ! 

u Is there no hope ?" the parent cries ; 

" From death no glad revival ? 
The cherished dust, no dust that lies, 

What world waits its arrival?" — 
11 That world, where Christ is gone before, 
Is theirs and thine for evermore.' ' 

Oh blissful scene ! where severed hearts 

Renew the ties most cherished ; 
Where nought the mourned and mourner parts ; 

Where grief with life is perished. 
Oh ! nought do I desire so well, 
As here to die, and there to dwell ! 



DIRGE OF A CHILD. 
BY MRS. REMANS. 

No bitter tears for thee be shed, 

Blossom of being ! seen and gone ! 
With flowers alone we strew thy bed, 

O blest departed one ! 
Whose all of life, a rosy ray, 
Blush'd into dawn, and pass'd away. 

Yes ! thou art fled, ere guilt had power 

To stain thy cherub soul and form, 
Closed is the soft ephemeral flower, 

That never felt a storm ! 
The sun-beam's smile, the zephyr's breath, 
All that it knew from birth to death, 



286 SOLACE -FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Thou wert so like a form of light. 

That Heaven benignly call'd thee hence 
Ere yet the world could breathe one blight 

O'er thy sweet innocence : 
And thou, that brighter home to bless, 
Art pass'd with all thy loveliness ! 

Oh, hadst thou still on earth remain' d, 

Vision of beauty ! fair, as brief ! 
How soon thy brightness had been stain'd 

With passion or with grief ! 
Now not a sullying breath can rise 
To dim thy glory in the skies. 

We rear no marble o'er thy tomb, 

No sculptured image there shall mourn • 
Ah ! fitter far the vernal bloom 

Such dwelling to adorn. 
Fragrance, and flowers, and dews, must be 
The only emblems meet for thee. 

Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine, 
Adorn'd with nature's brightest wreath, 

Each glowing season shall combine 
Its incense there to breathe j 

And oft upon the midnight air, 

Shall viewless harps be murmuring there. 

And oh ! sometimes in visions blest, 

Sweet spirit ! visit our repose, 
And bear from thine own world of rest, 

Some balm for human woes ! 
What form more lovely could be given 
Than thine, as messenger of Heaven ? 



ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. 

Life is a span, a fleeting hour ; 

How soon the vapour flies ! 
Man is a tender, transient flower, 

That e'en in blooming dies. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 287 

Death spreads his with'ring wintry arms, 

And beauty smiles no more : 
Ah ! where are now those rising charms 

Which pleas'd our eyes before ? 

Hope looks beyond the bounds of time, 

When what we now deplore 
Shall rise in full immortal prime, 

And bloom to fade no more. 

Cease then, fond nature, cease thy tears ; 

Thy Saviour dwells on high : 
There everlasting spring appears, 

There joys shall never die. 



THE DYING SON. 

Nay, mother, fix not thus on me 

That streaming eye, 
And clasp not thus my freezing hand ; 

For I must die. 

Deeply I've drunk the wormwood draught, 

The grief, the pain ; 
Oh ! ask me not one bitter drop 

To taste again. 

My father, on my weary head, 

O lay thine hand ; 
And bless me while I yet can hear 

Thy accents bland : 

And smile, as thou wert wont to do 

In happy days, 
When I looked to thy loving eye, 

And sought its praise. 

Loved parents, when my infant couch 

Ye knelt beside, 
And asked the gracious Lord to bless 

Your hope, your pride : 



288 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

To Him ye gave the opening bud, 

The early bloom ; 
Then grieve not that the ripened fruit 

He gathers home. 



THE INFANT'S HOME. 
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF TWIN CHILDREN. 

Where are ye now, sweet pair % 
Vacant is now your place of cradled rest ; 
Ye slumber not upon a mother's breast, 

Where is your home — oh ! where ? 

How beautiful ye were, 
With your meek, peaceful brows and laughing eyes, 
All eloquent of life's first energies, 

And joy's bright fount, yet clear. 

How blithely ye awoke 
With each new day ; familiar forms were there 
To meet your eager glance— kind voices near, 

In gentle accents spoke. 

Ye seemed then to be, 
As some pale flower, that to the morning's light 
Rears its frail stem, and spreads its petals bright 

As if confidingly. 

And when, at evening's close, - 
Those little hands, relaxing from the' grasp, 
That some dear object held, with loving clasp, 

Ye sunk into repose. 

Love made your slumber seem 
As the closed flowers, o'er which the silent star 
Keepeth its ceaseless vigil from afar, 

And sheds its unfelt beam. 

I looked upon you then 
With thoughts almost of sorrow in my gaze, 
As on a passing joy, which other days 

Would make not mine again. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 289 

I feared some change might sweep 
Through the untroubled breast, and leave its stain ; 
Some unsuspected ill, some bitter pain, 

Mar with sad dreams your sleep. 

I know that change has past 
O'er you, sweet, tender nurslings ! but I know 
Your spirits now will never taste of woe, — 

That change will be the last. 

Ye are before me now, 
As ye were wont to be— no beauty gone, 
That in those eyes, even when tearful, shone, 

No charm from those pure brows. 

Too calm, too deeply still, 
Is that unchanging picture ; yet a part 
Of the sweet visions of the past, 

Can make its own at will. 

And thus ye are mine own, — 
Mine own, to dwell upon with quiet love ; 
Thoughts the world cannot touch, nor time remove — 

From me ye are not gone. 

I ask not. where are laid 
Those faded forms — whether below the sod 
Which busy feet have with indifference trod, 

Or 'neath some kindjy shade. 

Where, on earth's tranquil breast, 
The peace of the Eternal One hath smiled, 
E'en as a mother o'er her cradled child, 

There is your place of rest. 

He, who mankind shall wake, 
Over his children's rest a watch doth keep, 
And with a voice that breathes of love, the sleep 

Of innocence will break. 

Not in that simple tomb, 
But in " our Father's house," where love shall be 
Abiding, even in its own sanctuary, 

There is the infant's home. 

35 



290 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS- 



TO A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF HER INFANT* 

Sure to the mansions of the blest, 

Where infant innocence ascends. 
Some angel brighter than the rest, 

The spotless spirit's flight attends. 

There at th' Almighty Father's -hand, 
Nearest the throne of living light, 

The choirs of infant seraphs stand, 

And dazzling shine where all are bright. 

When thus the Lord of mortal breath 

Decrees his bounty to resume, 
And points the silent shaft of death, 

Which speeds our infants to the tomb. 

Oh ! think the darlings of thy love, 

Divested of this earthly clod, 
Amid unnumber'd saints above, 

Bask in the bosom of their God. 



THE GRAVE. 

There is no monument to mark the spot ; 

Two feet of grass are all that o'er it wave ; 
The stranger passes, but he heeds it not ; 
It is an infant's grave. 

But there are two who know the spot full well, 

And visit it, full oft, at evening tide ; 
For when the child entombed within it fell, 
Fell all their earthly pride. 

The mother as she decks it round with flowers, 
Waters with tears the little new-grown sod ; 
The father bends his knee, and sadly pours 
His vexed soul to God. 

Grieve not, ye sad ones ! does the spirit sleep 7 

'Tis with the Lord, who took but what he gave, 
Angelic spirits nightly vigils keep 
O'er your infant's grave. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 291 



I will not weep, my boy, for thee, 

Though thou wer't all the world to me I 

I would not wish thee wak'd again, 

To strive like me with want and pain. 

I will but close that still bright eye, 

And kiss that brow so pale and high, 

And those pure lips, whose tones divine, 

Caught their first words, first pray'rs from mine : 

And fold thee to this bosom lone, 

Which thou has left as cold's thine own, — 

And thus implore the God who takes, — 

To help the heart thine absence breaks ! 

My boy — my boy — this darken' d earth 

Shall never more to me seem fair ; 
And I shall stand, 'mid all its mirth, * 

Like something which should not be there ! 
Yet, 'twas to heav'n thy soul was borne, 
And wherefore should thy parent mourn % 
Perhaps in mercy, He reprov'd 
The selfish zeal with which I lov'd. 
I'll mourn no more ! my God, thou knowest 
The wealth my desolated heart has lost ! 
Oh ! shield me from repining cares, 
When other parents point to theirs ; 
Bring back that light I now behold, — 
Oh, those lov'd features, calm and cold, — 
That deathless smile, which whispers me, 
He died in peace and joy with Thee ! 
My boy — my boy — sustaining Pow'r, 

Thy sinking mother well may crave, — 
For welcome shall be that blest hour, 

Which sees her share thy lonely grave ! 



RESIGNATION ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. 

Now, O Lord, to thee submitting, 

We the tender pledge resign ; 
And thy mercies ne'er forgetting, 

Own that all we have is thine. 



292 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 

Rest, sweet babe, in gentle slumbers. 
Till the resurrection morn ; 

Then arise to join the numbers, 
Who its triumphs shall adorn. 

Though thy presence was endearing, 
Though thy absence we deplore, 

At the Saviour's bright appearing, 
We shall meet to part no more. 



DEATH OF A CHILD. 

Alas ! how chang'd that lovely flower, 
Which bloom'd and cheer'd my heart ! 

Fair smiling comfort of an hour, 
How soon we're call'd to part! 

And shall my bleeding heart arraign 
That God whose ways are love ? 

Or vainly cherish anxious pain 
For one that rests above ? 

No ! let me rather humbly pay 

Obedience to thy will ; 
And with my inmost spirit say, 

The Lord is righteous still. 

The darkest nights and loudest storms 

Of earth will soon be o'er ; 
Then upward with th' angelic forms, 

We'll rise to meet no more. 



STANZAS. 



" Ostendent terris hanc tantum fata, nee ultra 
Esse sinent." 

Haste to depart. The breeze of earth 

Is all too rude for thee ; 
For thou wast destin'd from thy birth 

For realms more fair and free. 
Our warmest beams too coldly glow. 

Thy beauties to expand ; 
Thy spirit lingers here below, 

As in a foreign land. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 293 

Haste to depart. The wandering dove, 

Benighted as it flies, 
Pants not to gain its bower of love, 

As thou to reach the skies. 
The hours of spring-tide come, but bring 

No spring-time to thy heart ; 
Among the leaves sweet voices sing, 

Thou heed'st them not. Depart ! 

And yet to us thou art as dear 

As earthly thing can be ; 
And we are fain to keep thee here, 

And share our hearts with thee ; 
The thought, how brief thy sojourning 

In this Tow vale must prove, 
But makes us closer round thee cling, 

And wakes to deeper love ! 

Haste to depart. We would not dare 

To stay thy wing from heaven ; 
And all thy love, and all thy care, 

To God alone be given. 
Though darkness veil our future hours, 

Nor thou be near to shine, 
The bitter loss can be but ours, 

The gain immortal, thine. 

Thy mossy grave our tears shall wet, 

When thou art lowly laid, 
But thy freed spirit shall forget 

All of this earth's dim shade ; 
When crown'd and robb'd in spotless white, 

Washed in the fount above ; 
The Fount of blessedness and light, 

A great Redeemer's love ! 
25* 



g94 JS0LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 



THE SPIRIT VOICE, 

A little child said to her father a few days before 
her death, — " God calls me." She was then well, but 
the next Sabbath she died. 

God called her hence — the breath of prayer 

Had gone unto his throne ; 
And mighty like an incense there. 

The voice of praise had flown. 

God called her hence — that solemn tone 

Upon her slumber broke, 
As if an angel's golden harp, 

On earth its music woke. 

Whence did it come — that spirit voice, 

Unheard by all but her ? 
Like that which breathed from human lips, 

The brooding air doth stir? 

Is it a dream too wild and vain, 

That in our world of clay, 
Though hid from mortal sense and ken, 

A spirit realm may lay — 

That tones are breathing all around, 

Too subtle for our air, 
And music woke, whose blissful thrill 

Our sense could never bear — 

That on the very air we breathe, 

Bright forms are floating by, 
With but a filmy veil to hide 

Their glory from the eye % 

This may not be — but O, there is 

A being ever near, 
To whom thy bosom's secret thoughts, 

Arrayed in light appear. 

And though the realm of life or death, 

Enrobed in mystery t}e, 
The Sun of Righteousness at last, 

Shall make it light to thee. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 295 



AN AFFECTING SCENE. 

The following lines describe the suffering and death of 
a young wife and her children, from the intempe- 
rance of the husband and father. The wife was 
taken suddenly ill in a very cold night, and left 
alone with her little ones, while her husband went to 
procure a physician and other needful assistance ; 
the nearest house being over two miles distant : but 
he went into a tavern, became intoxicated, remained 
so for some time, and, on his return home, found 
them all dead. It is supposed the mother died soon 
after the birth of her child — that the boy struggled 
longest — that in trying to soothe his expiring sister, 
he sank down beside her, and could not at last re- 
lease himself from her arms. With what feelings 
can Christians pursue a business which has a natu- 
ral tendency to produce such results? The words 
are by Mr. Larned. 

O ! Mother dear, my lips are dry, 

And Bessy's hands are cold ; 
Mother, dear mother ! help me nigh 

Your bosom — surely you can hold 
Your little boy. I will not cry, 

Nor ask again for drink or bread, 
If you will only let me lie 

Upon your breast, and hold my head. 

O Mother ! call your little boy 

To your bedside — he'll try to crawl: 

You said I was your only joy, 

Your darling Henry, and your all ; 

And then you looked and screamed out so — 

Boy ! to your cruel father go. 

Why do you weep and wail to me ? 

Fly ! fly ! I've nothing here for thee ! 



296 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Don't stare on me, my mother dear, 

I'm still — though Bessy will not stir; 
And she's too cold to lie so near — 

O, why don't father come to her? 
Poor Bessy cried herself to sleep ; 

I wish I could — but when I try, 
My lips won't shut — and always keep 

Wide open on your staring eye ! 

Mother ! how can you lie so still, 

With that dead baby in your arms ? 
Who did that little dear one kill? 

You said 'twas now safe from all harms. 
Can't I be dead too, mother, say? 

I'm sure 'tis very lonesome here ; 
Is Heaven a very great long way ? 

And is our father waiting there ? 

I'm tired now, and cannot go ; 
And the bright sun does blind me so ; 
Oh ! shut your eyes, dear mother, do ; 
And let me love to gaze on you. 
How can you see us lying thus, 

On this iced floor — -our feet so cold? 
Once you would fondly run to us, 

And round us both the blankets fold. 

I'm falling— oh ! the room turns round ! 

I cannot see you now,- — but hark ! 
I hear a soft and pleasant sound — 

Perhaps it is the little lark. 
I love such sounds as these to hear — 

And it is dark no longer now ; 
Dear little girls with wings are near, 

And they are smiling on me too. 

Oh ! 'tis their songs so sweet and clear — 
I think I hear them softly say, 

Dear children, stay no longer here — 
Come, come with us, we'll lead the way. 

It must be heaven where they dwell — 

I come ! I come, Mother ! Farewell 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 297 

DEATH. 

BY MISS PARDOE. 

This is a world of care. 

And many thorns upon its pathway lie ; 
Weep not, then, mothers, for your fond and fair, 
Let the young die ! 

Joys are like summer flowers, 

And soon the blossoms of their beauty fall, 
Clouds bloom o'er both ; brief are both the hours, 
Death ends them all ! 

This is a world of strife, 

Of feverish struggles, and satiety, 
And blighted enterprise— what then is life % 
Let the strong die ! 

All human love is vain, 

And human might is but an empty sound ; 
Power of mind and body bringeth pain — 
Death is its bound ! 

This is a world of woe, 

Of heaviness, and anxiety : 
Why cling we then to evils that we know % 
Let the old die ! 

Wrestling with fell disease, 

Vain lamentations o'er departed years; 
Is not age rife with these ? 

Death dries all tears ! 

This is a world of pain : 

There is a better land beyond the sky \ 
A humble spirit may that portion gain — 
Let the just die ! 

But let those shrink with dread, 

Whose days have been of evil, lest they find, 
When all their earthly hopes are. withered, 
Despair behind I 



298 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Let them implore for aid, 

A fitter record of their j^ears to give j 
And lean on Him who mercifully bade 
The sinner live ! 



THE FATHER OVER HIS DEAD CHILD. 
BY CATHARINE PONSONBY. 

We little thought, my darling boy, 

When to my heart I pressed thee, 
And blending with my sighs, {{ farewell/' 

With ardent love caressed thee, 
'Twould be our last adieu on earth, 

Thy latest breathing kiss ! 
We meet again ! — but ah, my child ! 

A bitter meeting this. 

Thy bright blue eye is closed in death, 

Thy merry laugh is o'er ! 
Thy thousand winning ways, alas 1 

Shall charm this heart no more. 
Ah ! could'st thou not have lingered, love, 

To cheer me yet awhile, 
Life's scenes to bless and brighten still, 

With thy sweet, radiant smile ? 

Had I but seen thee once again, 

And watched thy dying bed, 
Caught the last flickering of thy breath, 

Pillowed thy drooping head ; 
My heart, methinks, would not have felt 

This bitterness of grief; 
Though sad the past, to love it gives 

A sacred, sweet relief. 

But shall I mourn thy loss, my child, 

Without one solaced feeling, 
Or beam of light within the cloud, 

High, heavenly hopes revealing? 
Forgive, my God, the bitter grief, 

Which murmured thy behest, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 299 

Thy love divine which made my child 
An Angel bright and blest. 

Teach me to say, " Thy will be done I" 

'Tis kindest, wisest, best — 
The cloud-robed tempest 'mid its ire, 

Bears blessings in its breast. 
Though darkness deep invests his path. 

Yet glories gem his crown, 
And merry beams through all the clouds 

That o'er his footsteps frown. 

My stricken heart to Jesus yields 

Love's deep devotion now, 
Adores and blesses — while it bleeds — 

His hand that strikes the blow. 
Then fare thee well — a little while — 

Life's troubled dream is past ; 
And I shall meet with thee, my child, 

In life — in bliss, at last ! 



MARY'S REQUEST. 

BY MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 

There was a shaded chamber, 

A silent, watching hand, 
On a low couch a suffering child 

Who grasped the mother's hand. 

She told her faith in Jesus — 
Her simple prayer was said, 

And now that darkened vale she trod. 
Which leadeth to the dead. 

Red fever scorched her bosom — 
Frost chilled the vital flame, 

And her sweet brow was troubled. 
As anguish .^rnote her frame. 

Yet 'mid the grasp and struggle, 
With shuddering lips she cried, 



300 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

" mother,— dearest mother. 
Bury me by your side," 

" But where will you be buried 1 
My darling Mary— where % 

In the green, shady dell you loved, 
With earliest violets fair ? 

Or in the ancient church-yard, 
Where we were wont to stray, 

J Mid the white marble monuments, 
My little Mary— say ?" 

But the thought of flowers had faded — 
The green dell charmed no more, 

Dim grew those marble monuments, 
With all their lettered lore. 

And one lone image lingered,— 
Bright 'mid the wreck of earth,— 

That love, with which her soul was knit, 
Even from the hour of birth. 

One only wish she uttered, 
While life was ebbing fast,— 

" Sleep by my side, dear mother, 
And rise with me at last." 

'Tis o'er,— the spirit parted, 

With that long, tender moan,— 

Check not thy grief, fond mother, — ■ 
Thou daughterless and lone : 

Weep freely,— Christ hath hallowed 
The tear that nature wrings, — 

And see,— how peaceful rests the clay, 
That pain no longer stings. 

Look ! look !— the thin lip quivers, 

The blue eyes open wide, 
And what a hollow whisper steals, — 

" Bury me by your side. 17 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 301 

And did the spirit falter 

Upon its upward track. 
To strew this never-dying flower 

In tender token back ? — 

Even at the gates of Heaven, 

Whence songs of angels flow, 
Remembered it the cradle hymn 

That soothed its infant wo. 



THE DYING CHILD. 

" Sweet mother, I seem gentle music to hear." 

" 'Tis but fancy, my child ; turn to slumber again," 

u Nay, surely 'tis music ; hark, mother ! 'tis near ; 
It floats round my couch with its gladdening strain." 

11 'Tis but fancy, my child ; let me moisten thy lips ; 

These breezes will temper thy feverish brow ; 
Some bee buzzes by as its nectar it sips ; 

'Tis nothing, my child, thou wilt rest better now." 

" Then 'tis nothing, dear mother, and yet sure 'tis sweet ; 

It comforts my soul, for it whispers of bliss : 
Were I dying, and angels my spirit would greet, 

They could not bring welcomer music than this, 

" And do you not hear it ! and do you not see 
Yon seraph that beckons me hence to the sky? 

Perhaps, dearest mother, ' tis sent but to me ; 
May I go if it calls ? may I yield it reply ?" 

Gentle babe, I come for thee : 

I did come to bear thee home, 
Far from mortal agony ; 

Come, then, gentle infant, come. 

Cool shall be that fervid cheek, 

Every tear be wiped away ; 
Ere the orient morning break, 

Thou shalt be in endless day, 
26 



302 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Yes, meek babe, 'twas I that sang j 
Heavenly anthems thou didst hear ; 

Strains to soothe thy dying pang, 
Hymns thy parting soul to cheer. 

Tell her on whose tender breast 
Soft reclines thy fainting head, 

Thou shalt shortly be at rest — 
Say not, numbered with the dead. 

No ; while o'er thy mouldering dust 
Falls the tear of earthly love, 

Thou shalt live amidst the just, 
Brighter life in heaven above. 

Bid her, then, sweet babe, rejoice 
That to her the boon is given, 

To resign, at Jesus' voice, 
One more cherub saint to keaven. 



MY BROTHER. 

Is this my little brother ? 

How cold he is, and still ; 
Do take him up, dear mother ! 

Is he not very ill ? 

No, no ! my child, the dear one 

Will suffer no more pain, 
'Tis death makes him so silent: 

He will not move again. 

Not hold his little arms out ? 

Nor make his pleasant noise I 
Nor open wide his tiny hand,^ 

To take the pretty toys. 

'Twas little brother's spirit 

Which made him laugh and play ; 
That which you loved you see not, 

There's nothing here but clay. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 303 

Why do you weep, then, mother ? 

You said, the other day, 
To die was only going home j 

Did brother want to stay % 

Will God love to see him, 

And show him pretty things ? 
And if he cries to come to you, 

Won't he give him little wings ? 

He has not gone away, child ; 

If we love him with our hearts, 
His spirit will stay with us, 

When this little form departs 

If you are good and gentle, 

He will always be with you ; 
And I will try to grieve no more, 

If you are kind and true. 

We'll kiss once more those lips, 

Then we will go away ; 
And God will give us happy thoughts, 

If we ask him when we pray. 

Mary. 



BURIAL IN THE COUNTRY. 

BY MISS A. M. F. BUCHANAN. 

The sunlight through the window's vines 

Came in upon the dead — 
A fair young child — and touched with gold 

The ringlets of its head. 
A smile so bright was round its lips 

And on its dimpled cheek, 
So life-like through the lashes long 

Shone out an azure streak, 
That in a childish playfulness 

Its eyes were closed, it seemed, 
To peep upon the glorious thing 

Whence the effulgence streamed, 



304 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

It lay where it had sunk to rest, 

Upon a snow-white bed 2 
On which the bright and balmy air 

Its coolness oft had shed ; 
And, full in sight, all pictured o'er 

With chequered greens of June, 
Majestic hills arose, and streams 

Sang their sweet, changeless tune ; 
And bees, from out the garden hive, 

And birds were winging by ; — 
With its calm cheerfulness, it was 

A lovely place to die. 



No studied words of sympathy 

Were coldly whispered round ; 
The silence of the humble throng 

Told more than measured sound. 
A step anon the couch would seek, 

A tear the shroud would wet, 
And mothers clasped their babes with thanks 

That God had spared them yet ; 
And children touched the cold, white brow, 

And then in awe stood by, 
Their new-learnt lesson thinking o'er 

Of angels in the sky. 

An aged man with meek, low voice, 

And simple words and few, 
Arose, and from the Book of God 

Inspiring comfort drew ; 
He said that types to teach our doom 

Were still our eyes before ; 
He pointed to the morning flower 

O'ershadowing the door ; 
And said its bloom, so bright, and brief, 

A child's existence shared ;— 
Then who could look on it, nor be 

For early death prepared. 

And sobs gushed forth, as from the home, 

Whence had for ever gone 
The echoes of a loved, young voice, 

The solemn train passed on. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 305 

Hailed by that holy comforter, 

The fresh, soft morning air, 
They wound along the woodland path 

Where birds and blossoms were. 
The fragrance and the melody 

So breathed of love and peace, 
That soon the hearts most anguished, felt 

Their throbs impatient cease. 

And then within the church-yard gate 

The lowly bier they stood, 
Thick strown with sweet acacia flowers, 

That fell while in the wood ; 
And hands that oft had fondled it, 

While flowed its winning mirth, 
Let gently down the coffined form 

Into the silent earth ; 
So carefully the sod they laid, 

That ere they ceased, had come 
The bees to the un withered thyme, 

And filled it with their hum. 

'Twould be a chilling thought to one 

Whose love is Nature's bloom, 
Whose oracles are every leaf, 

That in a dark, cold room 
He must be laid to die, where ne'er 

The stir of forest trees, 
Or murmurs of unfettered streams 

Sent their deep homilies ; 
That when the Almighty's summoner 

His heart were stilled to hear, 
The ribald shouts of reckless crowds 

Should rise upon his ear. 

? Twould be a chilling thought, that when 

He sinks to silent clay, 
The ones he loved must chain their sighs 

Along the crowded way ; 
And, though with anthems thrilling sad, 

And sombre pall and plumes, 
And knells to strike into the soul 

They bore him midst the tombs ; 



306 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

That careless tongues their tears should count, 

And strangers cold and rude. 
Cast down the turf, and sneering bid 

The worm to take his food. 

Oh ! that this hour of doom might come 

Far from the city's din, 
Where things of beauty, ever round 

His heart's sweet guides had been ! 
Where Friendship, at its last sad rite, 

Unchecked might rest and weep, 
And Memory, o'er his ashes, oft, 

Unseen, a vigil keep ; 
Where solitude and silence might 

E'en worldlings unenslave, 
To pause, and reverently glean 

A moral from his grave ! 



DYING THOUGHTS OF A YOUNG CHILD. 

Mother — the light of day is parting, 

From my weary eye, 
And my spirit is departing 

To the blessed sky. 
One unfading hope before me 

Whispers it is well : 
Brighter visions hover o'er me 

Than the lip can tell. 

On my young imagination 

Bursts a purer light, 
Than the beauty of creation 

Sheds upon my sight — 
Is it but a lonely vision, 

I ading in its birth, — 
Or the spirit's sweet transition 

From the bonds of earth % 

Will my hand, unwearied, gather 

Brighter flowers than we 
Culled— when once we roamed together; 

Mother — shall I see 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 307 

Birds, like those whose song I listened 

In the quiet wood ; 
Insects, bright as those that glistened 

In the sunlight's flood ? 

Do not all men love each other 

In a world like this ? 
The world's coldness ! tell me, mother, 

What that coldness is : 
I have found its scenes enchanting, 

And its love sincere, 
Yet my weary soul is panting 

For a purer sphere — 

For my Saviour's words steal o'er me, 

Holy, kind and sweet — 
Little children, come before me, 

And your shepherd meet. 
Mother, will not Jesus give me 

More than earthly love — 
Will his outstretched arms receive me 

To a home above ? 

Though on earth I have been dwelling 

But a summer's day, 
Hopes within my heart are swelling, 

As its powers decay. 
God to .my young heart hath spoken 

Many a sunny word, 
And his love, by many a token, 

In my soul was stirred. 

Read once more that sweet narration, 

I so love to hear, 
How our Lord, for man's salvation, 

Left his heavenly sphere ; 
How his precious love hath freed us, 

How his word can save — 
And how safely he w r ill lead us 

Through the silent grave. 

When my voice in this dear mansion 
Is no longer heard, 



308 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

May thy soul, with pure expansion. 

Rest upon his word ; 
From its page a light is shining. 

And a holy spell, 
Which forbids the heart's repining : 

Mother — fare thee well. 



DEATH OP THE YOUNG. 

Sleep, little one ! the summer winds are breathing 

A gentle hymn, to lull thy quiet rest ; 
Around thy tomb, in mournful beauty wreathing 

The ivy creeps, in fresh 7 ning verdure dressed. 

Bleep on, my love ! the summer flowers are springing 

In holy peace above thy mouldering head, 
To guard thy dust, and from their bosoms flinging 

A mingled sweetness o'er thy silent bed. 

We miss thee, love ! thy joyous face once blushing 
With rosy light, death-shades have overcast ; 

But ah ! how oft these heart-felt tears are gushing, 
To think our eyes on thee have looked their last. 

We miss those hours, when through our hearts was stealing 

The merry music of thy fairy feet ; 
We miss those hours, when every pulse of feeling 

Thrilled quick and warm thy trusting eyes to greet. 

We miss our babe, when evening gathers round us ; 

Thy place is vacant on thy mother's breast ! 
We wake no more, to feel the spell that bound us, 

When once to ours, thy infant lips were pressed ! 

Where art thou now % the soul which once was pouring, 
Through this cold dust, a warm and thrilling glow, 

Lives somewhere yet ; it vanished, heaven-ward soaring, 
Far from all pain, or blight, or earthly woe ! 

Where dost thou dwell 1 It must be thou art wearing 

A radiant light on thy enfranchised soul ; 
In some bright world thy part with angels bearing? 

Where hymns of holy joy forever roll. 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS, 309 

To that deep life, God's love hath surely borne thee, 
Dear cherished babe ! — nor seek we to reclaim ; 

How much we love, how much we miss and mourn thee, 
He knows alone — and blessed be his name ! 



SHE MOTHER TO HER SICK CHILD. 

! P 
Sleep on, my boy, and o'er thy fevered brow 
May gentle angels keep their silent watch ; 
May he who is the Lord of angels bend 
His pitying eye, and give thee soothing sleep. 
Oh ! may he breathe around thy languid form 
Benignant health, if such his holy will ; 
Yet good that holy will, though sickness sore 
Should linger — even sickness unto death ! 
My child, my treasure, I have given thee up 
To him who gave thee me ! Ere yet thine eye 
Rested with conscious love upon thy mother, 
Long ere thy lips could gently sound her name, 
She gave thee up to God ; she sought for thee 
One boon alone, that thou might'st be his child ; 
His child sojourning on this distant land, 
His child above the blue and radiant sky. 
'Tis all I ask for thee, belov'd one, still. 
Perchance, in some fond hour, this heart may wish 
High intellect to beam around thy brow, 
And all that earth counts joy to tend thy steps : 
Perchance I wish thy bright blue eye may cheer 
The remnant of my solitary path, 
That I may watch thy opening character 
Expanding like thy father's, bright and pure, 
The Christian, and the scholar ; yet, my boy, 
All these fond wishes of thy mother's heart 
Are merged in one — that thou may'st be His child, 
His own devoted child to spread his glory ; 
Whether in earth's dark places or on high, 
In labours such as holy angels knew. 
And he will hear the prayer, — He will accept 
The offering, He hath strengthened me to make. 
Even thus, of old, a babe was offered up — 
Young Samuel, for the service of his Temple ; 
Nor he refused the boon, but poured on him 



310 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

The anointing of all gifts and graces meet 
For his high office. So may'st thou, my child, 
In thine own humble sphere, be consecrate. 
Sleep on, then, dearest ; safe from peril, — safe, 
Though sickness be thy lot. In Life or death, 
Be but his arms around thee, thou art safe. 
Oh ! it is bliss to live, even on earth, 
Labouring for Him — gathering His elect in, 
From a dark sinful world, to His fear fold ! 
And it is bliss to die — to soar on wings 
Of seraph to His bright celestial throne ; — 
To bend, adoring, at the fount of light, — 
To dwell for ever in its blaze ! My child, 
This is the blessedness I ask for thee. 



A BENEDICTION FOR A BABY. 

BY JAMES MONTGOMERY. 

What blessing shall I ask for thee, 

In the sweet dawn of infancy % 

— That, which our Saviour, at his birth, 

Brought down with Him from heaven to earth. 

What next, in childhood's April years 
Of sun-beam smiles and rain-bow tears'? 
— That which in Him all eyes might trace, 
To grow in wisdom and in grace. 

What in the wayward path of youth, 
Where falsehood walks abroad as truth % 
— By that good spirit to be led, 
Which John saw resting on his head. 

What, in temptation's wilderness, 
When wants assail, and fears oppress? 
— To wield like Him, the Scripture-sword, 
And vanquish Satan " by the word." 

What, in the labour, pain, and strife, 
Combats and cares of daily life % 
— In his cross-bearing steps to tread, 
Who had not where to lay his head. 



mmm 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 311 

What, in the agony of heart, 
When foes rush in and friends depart? 
— To pray like Him, the Holy One, 
" Father, thy will, not mine, be done." 

What, in the bitterness of death, 
When the last sigh cuts the last breath ? 
— Like Him your spirit to commend, 
And up to paradise ascend. 

What, in the grave, and in that hour, 
When even the grave shall lose its power % 
■ — Like Him, your rest awhile to take j 
Then at the trumpet's sound awake, 
Him as He is in heaven to see, 
And as He is, yourself to be. 



THE FATHER TO HIS MOTHERLESS CHILDREN. 

Come gather closer to my side, 

My little smitten flock, 
And I will tell of him who brought 

Pure water from the rock : 
Who boldly led God's people forth 

From Egypt's wrath and guile. 
And once a cradled babe did float 

All helpless on the Nile. 

You're weary precious ones, your eyes 

Are wandering far and wide ; 
Think ye of her who knew so well 

Your tender thoughts to guide ? 
Who could to wisdom's sacred lore 

Your fixed attention claim? 
Ah ! never from your hearts erase 

That blessed mother's name. 

*Tis time to sing your evening hymn, 

My youngest infant dove ; 
Come, press thy velvet cheek to mine, 

And learn the lay of love ; 



312 S6LACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

My sheltering arms can clasp you all, 

My poor deserted throng ; 
Cling as you used to cling to her 

Who sings the angel's song. 

Begin j sweet birds, the accustomed strain, 

Come, warble loud and clear ; 
Alas, alas, you're weeping all, 

You're sobbing in my ear : 
Good-night : go, say the prayer she taught, 

Beside your little bed, 
The lips that used to bless you there, 

Are silent with the dead. 

A father's hand your course may guide 

Amid the storms of life, 
His care protect those shrinking plants 

That dread the storm of strife : 
But who, upon your infant hearts, 

Shall like that mother write % 
Who touch the strings that rule the soul? 

Dear smitten flock, good night ! 

L. H. S. 



BAPTISM AT THE COFFIN'S HEAD. 

" Agreeably to her request, her little babe was bap- 
tized at the head of the coffin of its mother. 5 ' — Obitu- 
ary of Mrs. E. R. L. Dowse, (consort of Rev. Ed- 
mund Dowse of Sherburne, Mass.,) in N. E. Puritan^ 
of July 14, 1842. 

Lieth here beneath her shroud, 
Like a star beneath a cloud, 
She, of whom our love was proud. 

Common mourners are not here ; 
Sorrow, bending o'er this bier, 
Drops no inexpressive tear. 

Kind, consistent, earnest one ; 
Active, all her labour done ; 
Ripe for summons to the Soft, 



SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 313 

Meek in her allotted place ; 
Panting for and finding grace ; 
Winner in the Christian race, 

Giving life, she yielded life ; 
Sharp the struggle, sore the strife, — 
Quick, yet keen, the severing knife. 

In the matron's modest bloom, 
Just a mother — to the tomb 
Sunk she by untimely doom. 

Just allowed earth's purest bliss, 
Just allowed her bud to kiss 
Ere she perished ; anguish this ! 

" Perished ? M — No ! — from this terrene 
Borne by angels she is seen ; 
God beholds the evergreen ! 

Stay awhile the funeral stave ! 
Stay, ere the insatiate grave 
Takes the lovely dust it gave. 

Stay ! — for so she bade us — till 
We perform her dying will ; 
Ere the waiting grave ye fill ! 

Bring the precious, fatal gift ! 
Heart ! thy inner purpose sift, 
While the fervent prayer we lift. 

Meet it is in truthful prayer, 
Thus to God our grief and care 
To commit, and leave them there. 

Meet it is when mothers go, 
Thus the orphans to bestow 
On His heart who loves them so ! 

Bring it to the Coffin's Head ! 
Kneel, while solemn word is said 
In the presence of the Dead ! 
27 



314 SOLACE FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 

Though her little babe is nigh, 
From that bosom where 'twould lie, 
Comes not the maternal sigh. 

Beckon not the sheltering arms 
To protect it from alarms ; 
Speaketh not the voice that calms. 

Ah ! that stream of life is dried, 
Which those tiny lips supplied ; 
Ah ! a mother's breast denied ! 

Peaceful doth that mother lie, 
Closed affection's ear and eye ; 
Heedless of her baby's cry. 

Water — of blest purity . 
Emblem — do we pour on thee ; 
Little one ! regenerate be — 

Only by the crimson flood 
Of the Spotless ; in the blood 
Of the very Son of God ! 



Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 
Take the feeble, take the lost, 
Purchased, once, at Calvary's cost. 



Onward ! — we have holy joy 
Breaking on our sad employ ; 
Death ! thou canst not these destroy. 

Wm. B. Tappan. 



VALUABLE BOOKS 

PUBLISHED BY 

R. CARTER, 58 CANAL STREET, N. Y., 

AND 

56 MARKET STREET, PITTSBURG. 



HORNE'S INTRODUCTION. 

An Introduction to the Critical Study and Knowledge of the Holy Scrip- 
tures. By Thomas Hartwell Home, B.D. New Edition, corrected 
and enlarged. Illustrated with numerous Maps and Fac-similes of 
Biblical Manuscripts. 2 vols, imperial 8vo. Price only $3 50. 

"Mr. Carter has issued an edition of Home's Introduction, which he offers at the 
astonishingly low price of $3 50 — for the two volumes ! Truly the scholar's niillen- 
ium has well nigh come. Those who have paid twenty dollars for it, in four vol- 
umes, will hardly understand by what process such a massive work can be so cheap- 
ly furniShed. It is a reprint from the last London edition, with Dr. Home's latest 
additions and corrections, containing all the maps and illustrative engravings. 

" To commend Home's Introduction to the clergy or other students of the sacred 
oracles, would be ' carrying coals to Newcastle.' It has long been regarded as an 
indispensable work for a theological library, and has acquired among Biblical scho- 
lars — at least English scholars — a deservedly high repute. It is a work of gigantic 
labour. The results of the research and erudition of Biblical scholars of all coun- 
tries, and in all time, are faithfully garnered, and, on the whole, well digested." — 
iV. Y. Evangelist. 

D'AUBIGNE'S REFORMATION. 

Authorized edition. 

THE ISRAEL OF GOD. 

A Series of Practical Sermons. By Stephen H. Tyng, D.D-, Rector of 
St. George's Church, New-York. 1 vol. 8vo. Price $1 00. 

M The fair sheet on which they are printed, with its wide margin and handsome 
type, attracts and pleases the eye ; while the Scripture truth and holy sentiment 
which glow through their transparent style, delight and improve the heart. The 
subjects are all of an eminently spiritual character, relating to the new birth, and 
the sanctification of the soul. They are treated with no effort for the display of 
talent, but with a manifest and most earnest desire to do good. The diction is pol- 
ished and slightly embellished, ranging between the neat and elegant ; the method is 
always clear, and the argument cogent." — Recorder. 

ANOIENT HISTORY. 

Containing the History of Egyptians, Assyrians, Chaldeans, Medes, Lydi- 
ans, Carthagenians, Persians, Macedonians, the Selucidse in Syria, and 
Parthians, from Rollin and other authentic sources, both ancient and 
modern. Republished from the work of the London Religious Tract 
Society. 4 vols. 12mo. Price only $2 00. 

H This history is not a servile copy from any other, but has a delightful freshness 
about it, the borrowed parts being re-written, and cast into a new form, on such 
principles of selection and arrangement, as favour perspicuity, and assist the me- 
mory. Instead of being lost in a chaos of materials, the reader is carried along in a 
plain path through well assorted and happily adjusted facts, cheered by a vivacity 
which keeps him interested. God is not excluded from the world which he created, 
nor is his interposition in the affairs of men overlooked. For common use we think 
it deserves to supersede all that have gone before it."—- Portland Christ. Mirror, 



It. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



CHALMERS' ROMANS. 

Lectures on the Epistle of Paul to the Romans. By Thomas Chalmers, 
D.D. andLL.D. 1 vol. 8vo. Fourth Thousand. Price $150. 

" Of the Theological writers, who have written in our language, and belong to this 
generation, Dr. Chalmers is unquestionably the strongest. It will gratify many that 
so able a writer, and so just a Theologian, has given the world an analysis of this 
Epistle. It is written in the terse and manly style of the author, but with no infla- 
tion of words or fancy. It is written also with great candour, and with no display 
of controversial argument." — Daily Chronicle. 

CHALMERS' SERMO N S.— COMPLETE. 

The entire Sermons and Discourses of Thomas Chalmers, D.D., &c. in 
2 vols. 8vo. — uniform with his " Lectures on the Romans." Nearly 
one-half of this work has never before been published in this country. 
Price $2 50. 

CHALMERS' NATURAL THEOLOGY. 

2 vols. 12mo. Price only $1 00. 
This Work has been introduced as a Text Book into the University of New- 



York, and several other institutions of a similar kind. 

■ The reputation of Dr. Chalmers stands high — too high to be affected by the 
opinions of ordinary men. As a literary man and a man of science — as a Christian 
and a Theologian — as a profound thinker and powerful writer — as an expositor of 
fundamental truth in Divinity and philosophy, and a practical man in the various 
departments of Christian labour — he has no superior. — Boston Recorder. 

CHALMERS' 
EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The miraculous and internal evidences of the Christian Revelation, and 
the authority of its records. By Thomas Chalmers, D.D. and LL.D. 
2 vols. 12mo. Price $1 00 

HORNE'S 

COMMENTARY ON THE PSALMS. 

With an Introductory Essay by the Rev. Edward Irving. Price $1 50. 

DAVIES' SERMONS. 

Sermons on Important Subjects. By the Rev. Samuel Davies, A.M., 
President of the College of New Jersey. With an Essay on the Life 
and Times of the Author. By Albert Barnes. Stereotype edition, con- 
taining all the Author's Sermons ever published. 3 vols. Price $1 50. 

BROWN'S LARGE CATECHISM. 

An Easy, plain, practical and extensive explication of the Assembly's 
Shorter Catechism. By John Brown, late Minister of the Gospel at 
Haddington. 1 vol. 12mo. Price 63 cents. 

THE HISTORY OF THE 

CHURCH OF SCOTLAND. 

From the earliest date down to the present time, containing a full and 

graphic description of the Disruption in 1843. By the Rev. W. M 

Hetherington, author of "The Minister's Family," " History of the 

Westminster Assembly of Divines," &c. 1 vol. 8vo. Price $1 50. 

OWEN ON SPIRITUAL MINDEDNESS. 

The Grace and Duty of being Spiritually Minded. By John Owen, D.D. 
1 vol. 12 mo. Price only 38 cents. 
2 



R. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



WORKS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. 

Containing an Authentic Narrative, &c. ; Letters on Religious Subjects, 
Cardiphonia, Discourses intended for the Pulpit, Sermons preached in 
the Parish of Olney, A Review of Ecclesiastical History, Olney 
Hymns, Poem3, Messiah, Occasional Sermons, and Tracts. To which 
are prefixed Memoirs of his Life, by the Rev. Richard Cecil, A.M. 2 
vols. 8vo. Price $2 50. 

WORKS OF THE REV. RIOHARD CECIL. 

3 vols. 12mo. Price $2 00 Contents : Vol. I. Sermons — Vol. II. Mis- 
cellanies — Vol. III. Remains. 

"It is not easy to say whether these works discover the finer mind or heart ; but 
certain it is that they unite both in a very uncommon degree. Cecil was one of the 
most gifted and heavenly-minded men of which the Church of England, or any other 
church, can boast ; and though his mind was peculiarly constituted, the highest and 
the lowest are alike sensible of the charm that belongs to his productions, and of 
the power that dwells in them. His writings possess the attribute of being remark- 
ably suggestive — a single half page will often supply materials for long-continued 
meditation." — Citizen. 

CHRISTIAN RETIREMENT; 

Or, the Spritual Exercises of the Heart. By the author of " Christian 
Experience." 12mo. 

THE LIFE AND POWER OF TRUE 
GODLINESS. 

By the Rev. Alexander McLeod, D.D. With an Introductory Essay by 
his son, John Neil McLeod, D.D. 12mo. 75 cts. 

THE LORD OUR SHEPHERD: 

An Exposition of the Twenty-Second Psalm. By the Rev. John Steven- 
son, author of Ci Christ on the Cross." 12mo. 75 ct3. 

THE POOR MAN'S MORNING PORTION. 

Being a selection of a Verse of Scripture, with Short Observations, for 
every Day in the Year. By Robert Hawkes, D.D. 12mo. 75 cts. 

SCRIPTURE NARRATIVES. 
Illustrated and Improved. By the Rev. Joseph Belcher, D.D. I vol 
12mo. Price 37 £ cts. 

ESSAYS ON EPISCOPACY, 

And the Apology for Apostolic Order Reviewed. By the late John M 
Mason, D.D. Edited by the Rev. Ebenezer Mason. 1 vol. 12mo. 
Price 50 cts. 

ESSAYS ON THE CHURCH OF GOD. 

By the late John M. Mason, D.D. Edited by the Rev. Ebenezer Mason. 
1 vol. 12mo. Price 50 cts. 

LUTHER ON GALATIANS. 

A Commentary on the Galatians. By Martin Luther. A New Edition, 
On fine paper and beautiful large type. 1 vol. 8vo. Price only $1 50. 

THE CHRISTIAN YOUTH'S BOOK, 

A Manual for Young Communicants. By Rev. Dr. Brownlee. 1 yqI, 
12mo. Price 50 ct? 

a 



R. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



MOFFATPS SOUTHERN AFRICA. 

Missionary Labours and Scenes in Southern Africa. By Robert MoflTatt 
twenty-three years an Agent of the London Missionary Society in that 
continent. 1 vol. 12mo. Price 50 cents. 

" We have read the whole of this large volume with undiminished interest, and 
have found it replete with missionary information, given in an unpretending, but 
strong and clear style. The narrative is enriched with descriptions of African sce- 
nery ; with the employments, habits, and pursuits of the native tribes ; their dangers 
from lions and other beasts of prey, and the wars and massacres of the roving bands 
of marauders, in their desolating excursions, from place to place." — For. Miss. 

ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF MISSIONS. 

A Record of the Voyages, Travels, Labours, and Successes of the various 
Missionaries, who have been sent forth by Protestant Societies to 
Evangelize the Heathen ; compiled from authentic Documents, forming 
a Complete Missionary Repository. Illustrated by twenty-Jive En- 
gravings on steel. By the Rev. J. O. Choules and the Rev. Thomas 
Smith. Seventh Edition. 2 vols. 4to., beautifully bound in full cloth. 
Price only $4 50. 

" A new edition of this great work has just been issued by Mr. Carter, in two 
quarto volumes, in handsome style, with a large number of very fine engravings, il- 
lustrating scenes, manners and customs, in the heathen world ; and we desire to call 
the attention of those interested in missions to this publication. It is the most exten 
sive and complete history of missions which has been prepared, and contains a mass 
of important and interesting information, which would not be readily found else- 
where. For a family book, one to which the children will resort to find striking 
facts and interesting narratives, and for the clergyman, who wishes to have a store- 
house, to which he may always refer for valuable materials, these volumes will be 
found most happily adapted." — Advocate. 

THE BRITISH PULPIT. 

Consisting of Discourses by the most eminent living divines, in England, 
Scotland, and Ireland ; accompanied with Pulpit Sketches. By the 
Rev. W. Suddards, rector of Grace Church, Philadelphia. 2 vols. 
8vo. Price $2 50. 

"The sermons may be regarded as among the very best specimens of the modern 
British pulpit; and indeed the work includes almost every distinguished name to be 
found in any of the Evangelical denominations in Great Britain. It is of course per- 
vaded by a great variety of taste and talent, and is for this very reason the better 
adapted to gain extensive circulation and to be eminently useful." — Argus. 

CONNECTION OF 

SACRED AND PROFANE HISTORY. 

Being a Review of the principal Events in the World, as they bear upon 
the state of Religion, from the close of the Old Testament History, till 
the establishment of Christianity. By D. Davidson. 3 vols. 12mo 
Price $1 50. 

" This work is well executed, and is, we think, calculated to become popular. The 
historical plan is clear and unique, and the style is singularly attractive, on account 
of its purity and strength. It is constructed upon a Christian basis, recognizing the 
fact, that although the superintending power of God over the progress of nations, 
may be as untraceable as his paths in the ocean, yet the effects are everywhere visi- 
ble, and manifest the progressive fulfilment of the prophetic denunciations and prom- 
ises set forth in the Holy Oracles." — Protestant Churchman. 

MEMOIR OF REV. HENRY MARTIN, 

Late Chapkrin to the East India Company. By the Rev. John Sargent, 
M.A. Fifth American, from the tenth London Edition. 12mo. Price 
50 cents. 

4 



R. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



These volumes are printed on white paper and good 
type, and are neatly bound in cloth, gilt backs, 18mo. 

OLD HUMPHREY'S ADDRESSES. 

Fourth Edition. 

OLD HUMPHREY'S OBSERVATIONS. 

Fifth Edition. 

THOUGHTS FOR THE THOUGHTFUL. 

By Old Humphrey. Fourth Edition. 

"Here good sense and good humour are most wonderfully and most happily blend- 
ed. Tho lessons, too, are eminently experimental and practical." — Christ. Reflector* 

WALKS IN LONDON, 

And its Neighbourhood. By Old Humphrey. Third Edition. 

HOMELY HINTS 

To Sabbath School Teachers. By Old Humphrey. Second Edition. 

MY GRANDPARENTS: 

Dy Grandmother Gilbert, and my Grandfather Gregory. By Old Hum- 
phrey. 

STROLLS IN THE COUNTRY. 

By Old Humphrey. 

THE OLD SEA CAPTAIN. 

By Old Humphrey. 

MEDITATIONS AND ADDRESSES 

On the Subject of Prayer. By the Rev. Hugh White, A.M. Fourth 
American, from the tenth Dublin Edition. 

THE BELIEVER : 

A Series of Discourses. By the Rev. Hugh White, A.M. Second Ame- 
rican, from the seventh Dublin Edition. 

LUCILLA; 
Or, the Reading of the Bible. By Adolphe Monod. Second Edition,; , 

TALES OF THE SCOTTISH 
COVENANTERS. 

By Robert Pollok, A.M., author of the " Course of Time." 

A BOOK FOR THE SABBATH. 

In Three Parts. — I. The Origin, Design, and Obligation of the Sabbath, 
II. Practical Improvement of the Sabbath. III. Devotional Exercises 
for the Sabbath. By the Rev. J. B. Waterbury, author of the "Ad- 
vice to a Young Christian," &c. 
5 



It. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



THE FAMILY OF BETHANY. 

By L. Bonnet. With an Introductory Essay, by Rev. Hugh White. 
Fourth American, from the eighth London Edition. 

" This book leads us, as with an angel's hard, through some of the most interesting 
scenes in the life of the Saviour of the wcrld. It is full of evangelical truth, of 
glowing imagery, of living, breathing devotioa. We recommend it for its intellectual 
as well as its moral and spiritual qualities." — Albany Argus. 

THE RETROSPECT; 

Or, Review of Providencial Mercies. With Anecdotes of Various Chai 
acters. By Aliquis, formerly a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, and now 
a Minister of the English Church. Third American from the eighteenth 
London edition. 

"The great popularity of this volume af pefrvs from the large number of editions 
through which it lias passed in Great Britai i in \ short number of years, having now 
reached the 17th edition, and proofs of its jsef tfness have not been wanting. Wo 
can assure our readers that there are few w* rks ;uf the kind so deeply interesting, or 
so well adapted to religious edification. W<« cofuUally recommend iu" — Chris. Int 

THE MARTYR LAMB; 
Or, Christ the Representative of hi* People in all Ages. By F. W. 
Krummacher, D. D., author of " Ilijah the Tishbite," &c. Fourth 
Edition. 

ELIJAH THE TIWBITE. 
By F. W. Kru mmacfter. 

"Our author is characterized by a glowing nnd in\.\finative style, which seems to 
be the expression of a heart warmed by pietp, i\nd souvsptible of the tenderest emo 
tions. He displays a happy tact, in dcvelopu- y, in th j i\ost pleasing manner, the cir 
cumstances of a scriptural incident or charastt:*, and ^* deriving from it practical 
lessons." — Presbyterian. 

MCCRIE ON KSTHER. 
Lectures on the Book of Esther. By th« Rev. Thomas McCrie, D.D., 

author of " Life of John Knox," &c. 

A TREATISE ON PRA\ r V"R; 
Designed to assist in the devout discharge* of thfe cYty. By the Rev 

Edward Bickers teth. 

M I O H A E L K E M i", 
The Happy Farmer's Lad. A Tale of Rustic Life, ilkisfcrative of the 

Scriptural Blessings and Temporal Advantages of Sdriy Piety. By 

Anne Woodrooffe. Second Edition. 

"Thoroughly and intensely have we read this b<k\tt, 'because, ** JVJbot said of 
BoswelPs Life of Johnson, ■ we couldn't help it.' Wrt were struck * *1 tha ingenu 
ous disposition and firm principles of Michael, and we wished to zt$ l\cy they would 
bear him through trying scenes. So much for the imprest which toe jury excites, 
the other merits of the book are not inferior." — Baptirt Advocate. 

COMFORT IN AFFLICTION. 

A Series of Meditations By the Rev. James Bivihanan, one of the Min 
isters of the High Church, Edinburgh. From the ninth Edinb. Edition. 
LIGHTS & SHADOWS OF SCOTTISH LIFE. 
By Professor Wilson. 18 mo. 

MEMOIR OF MARY LUNDIE DUNCAN. 

Second American Edition. 18mo. 

PRACTICAL REFLECTIONS. 

On the Second Advent. By the Rev. Hugh White, A.M. 18rao 
6 



R CARTER'S PUfeLIC ATfONS. 



PERSUASIVES TO EARLY PIETY. 

By the Rev. J. G. PiKe. 

DODDRIDGE'S RISE AND PROGRESS. 

Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. Illustrated in a Course of Se- 
rious and Practical Addresses, suited to persons of every character and 
circumstance, with a Devout Meditation or Prayer subjoined to eacii 
chapter. By Philip Doddridge, D.D. 

THE OOTTAGE FIRESIDE; 

Or, the Parish Schoolmaster. By the Rev. Henry Duncan, D.D. 

" This is a reprint of a Scotch work, by a clergyman of high standing, who doea 
not now for the first time appear as an author. The narrative is constructed with 
great beauty, and is designed at once to illustrate and remedy some of the principal 
evils connected with domestic education. The work may very properly occupy the 
attention both of parents and children ; and it will be read with pleasure by all who 
can relish the simple and beautiful in thought and expression." — Argus. 

THE CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATED, 

In a Course of Lectures delivered in the Argyle Chapel, Bath. By Rev. 
William Jay. New Edition. 

"It has all the peculiar marks of Jay's mind ; perspicuity of arrangement, simpli- 
city and occasional elegance of diction, deep-toned piety and copiousness of senti- 
ment. In recommending such a book we are conscious of doing a service to the 
cause of piety, by promoting the spiritual-mindedness, and consistent, symmetrical 
conduct of every Christian who prayerfully peruses it." — Baptist Advocate. 

WORKS OF REV. HENRY SCOUGAL. 

Containing the Life of God in the Soul, &c. 

DEW OF ISRAEL, 

A.nd the Lily of God; or, a Glimpse of the Kingdom of Grace. By F. 
W. Krummacher, D.D. Second American, from the second London 
Edition. 

CHRISTIAN FRAGMENTS; 

Or, Remarks on the Nature, Precepts, and Comforts of Religion. By 
John Burns, M.D., F.R.S., Regius Professor of Surgery in the Univer- 
sity of Glasgow, &c. &c. 

"The different pieces constitute so many distinct, though sometimes brief, disquisi- 
tions upon scriptural topics, and are designed to promote the spiritual-mindedness of 
the reader. They were written under the pressure of deep affliction, and in view o, 
an approaching judgment. They display sound thought, evangelical sentiment, cor- 
ect doctrine, and an elevated tone of Christian feeling." — Advocate. 

CHRISTIAN FATHER AT HOME; 

Or, a Manual of Parental Instruction. By W. C. Brownlee, D.D. 

A GLIMPSE INTO 

THE WORLD TO COME, 

n a Waking Dream. By the late George B. Phillips. With Extracts, 
illustrative of his Spiritual Progress ; and a Brief Memoir, by Mrs. 
Duncan, author of " Memoir of Mrs. Mary Lundie Duncan," &c. 

" This is altogether an extraordinary production. The small portion of it which 
fives it its title, is a strain of fervent pious imaginings, based however upon the ora- 
cles of God. One cannot easily read it without gaining a mere deep and solid im 
pression of the other world.*' 
7 



R. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS 



INFANT PIETY. 

A Book for Little Children. By Baptist W. Noel, M.A. 

44 In this volume one of the finest spirits in the established church of England gives 
us a simple record of the pious lives and happy deaths of several little children on 
h'rtli sides of the Atlantic. The work is well adapted to accomplish the benevolent 
design of its author, by leading little children to remember their Creator." — Albany 
Evening Journal. 

A MEMOIR OF JOHN HUSS. 

Translated from the German. 

"To many who are familiar with the life of Martin Luther, that of JohnHuss, who 
preceded him, and prepared the German mind for his more extended labours, is com- 
paratively little known. The true character of Romanism is displayed in the treat- 
ment of each, but some of the darkest shades are seen in the case of Huss." — Baptist 
Advocate. 

HELEN OF THE GLEN. 

A Tale of the Scottish Covenanters. By Robert Pollok, A.M. 

THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 

By Pollok. 

RALPH GEMMELL. 

By Pollok. 

JESSY ALLAN, 

The Lame Girl. By Grace Kennedy, author of " Anna Ross," &c. 

"It is an affecting tale, and strikingly illustrates the power of religion, and its full 
adequacy to human wants in every emergency." — Christian Mirror. 

SINNER'S FRIEND. 

From the eighty-seventh London Edition, completing upwards of half a 

million. 
f^jjp 3 This little Work has been translated into sixteen different languages. 
"It is designed hy its direct appeals, to arrest the attention of the most careless 
reader, and to pour into his ear some word of truth before he can become fatigued 
with reading." — Presbyterian. 

"It is fitted to be an admirable auxiliary to ministers in the discharge of their 
duty." — Albany Daily Advertiser. 

DECAPOLIS; 

Or, the Individual Obligations of Christians to save Souls from Death. An 
Essay. By David Everard Ford. Fifth American, from the sixth 
London Edition. 

" This book is an exhortation to Christians, and Christian ministers, to exercise 
greater faithfulness in saving souls from eternal death. We have read it with much 
pleasure, and we hope with some profit. The book is most beautifully got up ; and 
we could wish that it might oeread and pondered by every one who indulges a hope 
that he is a Christian." — N. Y. Evangelist. 

SHORTER CATECHISM. 

Anecdotes Illustrative of the Shorter Catechism. By John Whitecross. 

New Edition. 

" This will relieve the catechism of a difficulty which many have felt in respect to it 
— that it is too abstract to be comprehended by the mind of a child ; here every truth 
is seen in its practical relations, and becomes associated in the mind with some inter- 
esting fact which is fitted at once to make it plain to the understanding, to lodge it in 
the memory, and to impress it upon the heart." — Daily Advertiser 
8 



R. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



MEMOIR OF JOHN D. LOCKWOOD. 

Being Reminiscences of a Son by his Father 

"A gifted mind and cultivated powers, hallowed and controlled by a sweet and 
trustful piety ; the simplicity of childhood mingled with the seriousness and discre- 
tion of mature age, — we are sure no one could watch his brief career, terminating in 
a death, though sudden, not unprepared for, without deep interest. We have read 
it with unmingled pleasure and profit." — N. Y. Evangelist. 

PERFECT PEACE. 

Letters Memorial of John Warren Howell, Esq,, of Bath, M. R. C. S. 

By the Rev. David Pitcairn. With an Introduction by the Rev. John 

Stevenson, author of " Christ on the Cross," " The Lord our Shepherd 

&c. 

PROFESSION IS NOT PRINCIPLE; 
Or the Name of Christian is not Christianity. By Grace Kennedy, authot- 

of " Jessy Allan," " Anna Ross," &c. 

GOSPEL PROMISES. 

Being a Short View of the Great and Precious Promises of the Gospel. 
By the Rev. Joseph Alleine, author of " An Alarm to the Unconvert- 
ed," &c. 

LIFE IN EARNEST. 

Six Lectures on Christian Activity and Ardour. By the Rev. Jame 
Hamilton, author of " Harp on the Willows," &c. 

MY GRANDMAMMA GILBERT. 

By Old Humphrey. 

MY GRANDFATHER GREGORY. 

By Old Humphrey. 

MEMOIR OF HANNAH SINCLAIR. 

By the late Rev. Legh Richmond. From the nineteenth London Edition; 

TRUE HAPPINESS; 

Or, the Excellence and Power of Early Religion. By J. G. Pike, author 
of " Persuasives to Early Piety," &c. Second Edition. 

CHARLIE SEYMOUR; 

Or, the Good Aunt and the Bad Aunt. By Miss Catharine Sinclair, au- 
thor of " Modern Accomplishments," &c. Third Edition. 

LIVE WHILE YOU LIVE. 

By the Rev. Thomas Griffith, A.M., Minister of Ram's Episcopal Church, 
Homerton. 

CROOK IN THE LOT; 

Or, a Display of the Sovereignty and Wisdom of God in the Afflictions ofj 
Men, and the Christian's Deportment under them. By the Rev. Thomas 
Boston. 

A TRIBUTE OF PARENTAL AFFECTION 

To the Memory of my beloved and only Daughter, Hannah Jerram, with 
a Short Account of the last Illness and Death of her elder Brother, 
Charles Stranger Jerram. By the Rev. Charles Jerram, A.M., 
Vicar of Cobham, Surrey. From the fifth London Edition. 
9 



R. CARTER'S PUBLICATIONS. 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 

Bickersteth's Treatise on the Lord's Supper. With an Introduction, 
Notes, and an Essay. By G. T. Bedell, D.D. Fifth Edition. 

COMMUNICANT'S COMPANION. 

By the Rev. Matthew Henry. With an Introductory Essay, by the Rev. 
John Brown of Edinburgh. 

BAXTER'S CALL. 

Now or Never, &c. With an Introductory Essay, by Dr. Chalmers. 

RELIGION AND ETERNAL LIFE; 

Or, Irreligion and Eternal Death. By J. G. Pike. 

THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER. 

A Tale. By Mrs. Cameron. 

LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 

Written by himself, and continued to his Death. By the Rev. Rich. Cecil. 

THE HARP ON THE WILLOWS. 

Remembering Zion, Farewell to Egypt, The Church in the House, The 
Dew of Hermon, and the Destination of the Jews. By the Rev Jas. 
Hamilton, of London. From the forty-fifth London Edition. 

SABBATH MUSINGS. 

By Caroline Fry. 

HERVEY'S MEDITATIONS 

AND CONTEMPLATIONS. 

New Edition. ' 

THE HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION 

IN EUROPE. 
W T ith a Chronology. 

MY SCHOOL-BOY DAYS. 

SORROWING, YET REJOICING. 

Or a Narrative of Successive Bereavements in a Clergyman's Family. 
DIVINE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY. 

By J. G. Pike, author of " True Happiness." &c, &c. 

A WORLD WITHOUT SOULS. 

By J. W. Cunningham, A.M., Vicar of Harrow. 

THE WORLD'S RELIGION. 

As contrasted with genuine Christianity, by Lady Colquhoun. 
ADVICE TO A YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 

On the inportance of aiming at an elevated standard of piety. ^ By a Villag 
Pastor, with an Introduction by Rev. Dr. Alexander, of Princeton, N. J 

CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE. 

By the Author of " Christian Retirement " 
10 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proce! 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Nov. 2005 

PreservationTechnologie 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATII 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



00 



